Ignorance is Bliss
by Icura
Summary: On the run from an ironclad marriage agreement, Ranma and Genma end up in a strange forest. In the middle of it all, they meet one of the four Rakshasa Demons, and things begin to spiral out of control. Not that they really noticed anything.
1. Chapter 1

"Where are we, boy?" Genma swiftly landed on a tree branch as a monkey with a scorpion's tail leapt after him. A quick roundhouse kick caught the monkey in mid-air and sent it flying into the dark depths of the forest. A chorus of animalistic screeches came as droves of monkeys came forth to replace the fallen one.

"I think we're in the forest in southern Belarus." Ranma was standing on a branch of a tree while holding up a map. He ducked as a scorpion's tail stabbed into the tree trunk where his head used to be. The tail quickly retracted, but small wisps of smoke rose from the broken bark as the corrosive venom ate through the wood. He used a sweep kick to knock the monkey off its feet, sending the animal tumbling down to the ground floor. He brought up his map again. "I can't figure out where exactly we are. Eastern Europe is pretty rural so there aren't many landmarks on this map."

A chorus of gunfire, far back in the direction they came from, startled the monkeys. They stopped their charge and looked at each other for a moment before they all screeched. Like a receding wave, they abandoned their current targets and headed back towards where the gunshots came from.

"Looks like they're starting to catch up, Pops. You think the monkeys will stop them?"

Genma scoffed. "If killer monkeys was it took, we wouldn't be having so much trouble."

"Yeah, I guess you're—hey!" One of the retreating monkeys grabbed the map out of his hand. It stuck out its tongue before it hopped from tree branch to tree branch to rejoin its companions.

Just as Ranma was about to give chase, Genma grabbed his shoulder. "Don't, boy. Half of Belarus is forested. If I lose sight of you, we won't be able to find each other again."

Ranma looked like he was about to argue, but he thought better of it and relented. "Stupid Eastern European scorpion monkeys."

"We can always get another map at the next town."

Ranma nodded at Genma before they started leaping from branch to branch. In the distance, they could hear the echoes from the rapid firing of rifles.

After the disaster that was the wedding ceremony, life went on. At the moment, however, the Saotome father and son were on the run. Very few things scared them like a debt of 40 billion yen to an heiress from a multinational corporation who wasn't too shy to hire private military companies and bribe governments to hunt them down. Since it was Ranma, it somehow ended in an arranged marriage agreement.

They had been on the run for months, and things still hadn't gotten easier for them. They had traversed across Asia in record time, somehow ending up in this forest in Eastern Europe while they were zig-zagging across the continents to lose their relentless pursuers. Not that it really stopped them from catching up, but it could have been worse.

Genma came to a halt on the branch of a particularly large tree and listened closely, prompting Ranma to stop as well on a nearby one. The forest was densely packed with majestic trees that reached high overhead, their canopies of leaves blotting out much of the sunlight. More importantly, they made it harder to hear anything above, forcing the bald man to strain his ears. He only heard the sounds of the forest's wildlife. After a moment, Genma confirmed his suspicions.

"I don't hear the helicopters anymore."

"That wouldn't be the first time. Remember when they sent in those jets."

Genma shivered at the memory. In the Northern region of Russia, the bribed government—or at least just a few corrupted military officials—had sent in jets armed with napalm to flush them out of a forest. They were still alive, which was proof enough of their successful escape, but it had been a close call. Those burns took days to completely heal. Still, it wasn't as bad as the time they sent mercenaries with flamethrowers to find them in the underground tunnel networks of Pakistan, especially when they collapsed the tunnels. That had been a truly harrowing experience; they were on the edge of starvation when they finally dug their way out. _If only that foolish boy had the sense to learn that breaking point technique from that Ryouga boy, we wouldn't have suffered so badly_, he thought.

"Or that time with the—"

"I get it already, boy. But things won't end until that debt is paid off. Your mother can't run from them like we can."

Ranma sighed. That was the thing. The debt didn't come from Pops; it was because of his mom. With Ranma and Genma gone on a training trip, Nodoka had no means to financially support herself through those long years. So rather than lose the house that had been in her family for generations, she made a contract with a multinational corporation that she had very distant familial ties to: the Takamiya Conglomerate.

Their holdings and accounts made them one of the wealthiest family-owned corporation in the world, and they had a lot of connections with many governments and lineages. They had their hands in everything from grocery outlets to electronic manufacturing to biotechnology to military research. From what Nabiki told them, they could easily bankrupt a small country with just a few words.

In exchange for them covering her finances, she engaged her son to the heir of that corporation, a woman who was five years his senior. It was hard to blame Nodoka, since she was doing it for survival, unlike when Pops did it, but it wasn't like he wanted another fiancée; he had enough trouble with the ones who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Turns out that heiress didn't take 'no' for an answer, either.

It wasn't like he couldn't handle it, but things got a little bit hectic when the Takamiya heiress started launching cruise missiles into Nerima. It wasn't running; it was just a tactical retreat. And besides, he didn't want anyone else getting hurt. Especially not since that time when those night ops paramilitary crew broke into the dojo and made Kasumi sprain her ankle. He got a lot of flak about that one.

Still, all he had to do was keep away until he could earn enough to pay back the 40 billion yen that Nodoka took over the years. It was a bit daunting, but he figured he could do it. Pops had some ideas. Not really _good_ ones, but it was a start. First, though, they had to get away from Japan. It was home, but Japan's flagging economy made it a bit difficult to make a large amount of money quickly - not unless he wanted to completely ruin people's lives. Yeah, he wasn't willing to stoop that low. Not yet, at least.

Pops didn't want this marriage to happen. That was because there was a prenuptial agreement, not to mention the list of conditions that he had to abide by in order not to stain the Takamiya family's name. Sufficient to say, he wasn't pleased at all. Eventually, it came down to Pops ranting a bunch about it that Ranma only half listened to, but he didn't argue against it; he didn't want to go through with the marriage either. So they packed their bags and made a run for it.

The airports and seaports were blocked off so they swam the whole distance to Hong Kong, but even then, the chase was on. It was actually far more relentless than Shampoo's - so much so that they had a hard time staying in one place long enough to earn much. It started small, but it got to the point that now, at the first sign of a tank or helicopter brigade, they got out of there as fast as they could. Black sedans were a bad sign too.

The worst part was that the more Ranma escaped from her grasp, the more she wanted him. He had found that out from one of the mercenaries he beat up. It seemed that they were given letters to give to Ranma if they were defeated, and those letters turned out to be love letters. Poems, diary entries, all the works. They were kind of creepy, honestly. And it definitely wasn't pleasant to find out that what had started as an arranged marriage had turned into an all-consuming obsession. At this point, he wasn't quite sure if she wanted to marry him or kill him. Probably both, if his life was any indication. _Stupid psycho chick._

More than once, he considered just giving in, but the thought of being married to someone similar to a saner Kodachi - or a crazy Nabiki - wasn't on his list of things to do. He wasn't quite sure which comparison was scarier.

"Stand sharp, boy. They're coming."

Ranma blinked. He hadn't noticed it. Stretching out his senses, he could feel a single presence moving through the forest at high speed. It definitely wasn't as fast as him, or even Pops, but it was fast enough that it showed that the person was a fairly skilled martial artist. Could use some work, especially the ki suppression. It was more than enough to hide themselves from amateurs, but any martial artist from Nerima worth their salt would be able to sense him. Seriously, even Mousse could do it, and that guy couldn't tell a tree from Shampoo.

"You wanna do it or should I?"

The only response from Genma was him holding his hands limply in front of him like a ghost, his presence diminishing as he sunk into the shadow of the tree.

Umisenken. It was one of the two forbidden schools that Genma created and sealed. Well, it wasn't really sealed anymore. Neither of the two schools was. Pops officially unsealed them after they started facing off against those bands of gun-toting maniacs and cyborg ninjas. There wasn't really any reason not to, especially for Yamasenken. An elite martial artist like Genma wouldn't normally need crazy lethal techniques that could pierce or slice apart his opponents, but it was different when he was dealing with tanks and killer androids. He needed sharp and powerful moves to take those down. It got worse when they started using electrified body armor on the regular mercenaries. _That_ wasn't a pleasant memory.

Ranma dropped the pack from his back, rolling his shoulders before leaning back against a tree trunk. He was always up for a challenge.

~o~

Sten stared down at the lone boy leaning against the tree, who didn't seem to have noticed the large bear of a man standing on a branch of a tree high above, his arms crossed over his barrel-like chest. Bald and bearded with ringed eyes, his body was huge, stacked densely with large muscles. Two bracers lined his arms and a single iron pauldron protected one shoulder. A white robe hung down from his pauldron, held to his body by a belt. From his appearance and demeanor, he could easily be mistaken for a monk of some rural martial arts. Though, that wasn't far from the truth.

He was one of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons. That was not to say there were only four of them; there were far more, but they were the best of the best, the epitome of those who called themselves Rakshasa Demons. Every single one of the demons—a moniker given by one of the previous emperors in the far past—grew up drinking the broth of the Kraken Lake behind the temple where they lived and trained at, gaining the ability to control and manipulate their bodies to a supernatural degree.

So it was with confidence that he knew that he heard two different and distinct voices from this location. Yet, upon arrival, all that he found was a young, black-haired teenager with exotic eyes, similar to those that lived on the undeveloped islands in the Eastern Ocean. There was no sign of the other, despite all expectations. None of his uniquely enhanced senses picked up on anyone else for miles.

He would have dismissed it plainly, a trick on his mind, if it weren't for the fact that the prophetic dream had two occupants in it. When the Lord of the Path of Peace had a dream about two individuals of Eastern descent in this very forest, destined for greatness, he had informed his ministers of it and sent a team of elite warriors to retrieve the two.

That was why one of the ministers, Bolic, who was secretly working for the Empire and was given control of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons for his own protection, sent him. Keeping three of the Rakshasa Demons as his bodyguards—since a coward like that fool could never forgo his own safety—Sten was sent to eliminate the warriors and bring the two Easterners to the Prime Minister.

It was almost too easy to wipe out that team of "elite" warriors. In comparison to those who possessed Teigu, they were pitifully weak. Though, perhaps that was a virtue. It had, after all, allowed him to free their souls from the torturous corpses that were their bodies.

Hmph. He was not a man of patience. It was time to make his presence known. He stepped off the branch, falling straight down to the earth. His feet crashed into the forest's floor, rupturing the dirt underneath and causing the ground to quake at his arrival. His arms were still crossed over his muscular chest, and he was grinning widely with a full set of teeth.

"Child, you'll come with me," Sten said. "The Prime Minister would like to have a chat with you."

Ranma looked up calmly at the man with a purposely bored expression, still leaning against the tree. "Do you work for the Takamiya Conglomerate?"

"No." An honest answer, though Sten did not know what that was in the first place.

"Then why should I care?"

"If it weren't for the fact that you still have value in your mortal existence, I would've freed your soul from the binds of this transient world the moment I laid eyes on you." Sten uncrossed his arms, giving out an explicit threat. And why wouldn't he? The boy was no true warrior. The child's battle aura was dim to such a degree that he couldn't possibly be trained to fight, despite the muscles that he could see on the boy's body. The song that sang the joy of a fight was nearly nonexistent in the boy.

"Gotta say, that sounds like the story of my life," Ranma said casually. "But the answer's no. Better luck next time."

Sten stared incredulously at Ranma for a moment, before he burst out laughing.

"It's not that funny," Ranma muttered under his breath.

"You amuse me, child," Sten said as he settled back into his full grin. "But if you say something like that to me again, I'll cripple your mortal body in such a way that you'll beg me to release your soul."

"Hold that thought," Ranma said, turning his gaze to look slightly over Sten's shoulder. "Well, Pops, you done yet?"

"Just about so, boy." The voice came from behind Sten, causing his eyes to widen. He spun around to find the presence of a bald, pot-bellied man where there was none before. Before Sten could do more than gape, a vicious uppercut crashed into his chin with enough strength that it shook his brain as his body was lifted several feet into the air. It was impossible. His weight alone should have made that a fantasy, and that was before taking in the fact that his stance alone practically welded him to the earth. Yet, despite all odds, he was floating helplessly in the air, his breath caught in his throat.

Both Saotome men jumped up with their opponent, the older in front of Sten while the younger behind. They unleashed a dazzling display of aerial punches and kicks onto the Rakshasa Demon, lifting the man even higher in the air as they climbed with him. The firsts and feet snaked in and penetrated his defenses with such force that he distinctly felt pain from each and every single one of those numerous blows.

The pummeling dazed Sten's mind, shaking his brain countless times in his skull. In spite of that, his instincts were still intact, enough that he countered with his own punches and kicks. Unfortunately, his style was a ground-based one, such that without a firm footing on the earth, all of his attacks swung wildly and inaccurately without the momentum that made up its strength. As one, both Saotomes used an overhead smash at the same time, sending the Rakshasa Demon straight into the ground. The earth caved under his both the momentum and his immense weight, leaving a sizable crater with him in the center. Ranma and Genma landed on either side of the crater.

"So Pops, was there anything else we've got to fight?"

"No."

"Eh? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've taken my time then."

"Don't be foolish, boy! You must always be prepared for the unexpected! Remember those robot moles that attacked us from underground? We didn't detect that until it was too late. To be negligent is to fall victim to surprise attacks. The path of a martial artist is fraught—"

"With peril. Yeah, yeah," Ranma said dismissively. "But still, I could've gotten some new moves from him. I mean, it's not like the guy could even scratch me."

"I'm not done yet!" Sten roared as he rose to his feet, veins bulging all along the skin of his body. If he wasn't a Rakshasa Demon, he would have been incapacitated by that onslaught. Strangely enough, none of the attacks were lethal in nature, despite there being plenty of opportunities to do so. Even more curious than that was the fact he could not sense any killing intent from either of the two. Still, he could not take this humiliation with grace. It should be fine to bring them in battered and broken, as long as they were still alive.

"Hey Pops, don't interfere."

"Do as you like, boy."

"I may not be able to send you to the other world, but you'll wish I did. Kouken Temple Hundred Blazing Fist!" Sten rushed forward, stretching his arms as he lashed out, his fist extending and retracting at a speed that a normal man wouldn't be able to see. However, Ranma was a trained marital artist. He blurred between the strikes, dodging most of them by a hair's width while redirecting the ones he couldn't with a tap of his fingers. Eventually, the onslaught came to an end without a single hit. When Sten threw the last punch, fully extending his arm, the only thing that his knuckles touched was empty air. Ranma was crouched on Sten's arm—somehow having jumped up to land on the outstretched arm in the interval—looking down at the bigger man with a bored expression.

"Is that all you got?" Ranma poked the shocked man's forehead with his index finger. "I mean, you're sorta tough like Ryouga, but you're nowhere near as fast as I am. And I'm slower right now than when I get splashed with cold water."

Sten swung his arm, but Ranma had already backflipped off of it.

"Hey! It's not like I'm trying to make you angry, 'cause you'll know when I'm trying." Ranma glanced over at Genma. "Pops, I gave him a once over pat. I didn't feel any gadgets on him. I don't think he's with that psycho heiress."

"Perhaps not, boy."

Sten glared balefully at his fist. Even though he had been weakened by the previous assault, he had put enough of his strength and speed into his attack that all but the most skilled of the masters of the Imperial Fists would have been hard-pressed to defend against it. To be outclassed so simply and completely from not a man but a _child_, who wielded no Teigu at all, was something that he never considered a remote possibility. It felt like his own body had betrayed him.

Had he not trained his entire life? Did he not sacrifice enough?

"So who the heck are you anyways?" It wasn't like Ranma had all day to wait around for the big lug to snap out of it. Besides, it wasn't like this was different from their everyday life. From the looks of things, they stumbled on the territory of a Martial Arts Temple. This monk seemed to be one of the masters of the temple, and while that Hundred Fist thing wasn't as good as the technique he got from the Amazons, it didn't mean they didn't have other techniques that could be worth taking. They always did stay at dojos and temples for shelter and to learn new moves.

Well, the guy was saying something about a Prime Minister, now that Ranma thought about it.

Sten swung his arm, smashing his forearm into a tree and shattering the trunk in its entirety. Without its support, the tree came crashing down, though nowhere near the trio. He still felt plenty of anger, but it was now at a manageable level. He had not pulled out his entire arsenal, but if the child could completely negate the speed of his fastest attack, he doubted that any of his other techniques would fare better. There was no point in continuing this fight.

"I'm Sten of the Four Kouken Temple Rakshasa Demons. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to… escort you to the Prime Minister of the Empire."

"You don't got any techniques left?" Ranma whined before the bald's man statement caught up to his brain. "Wait. Empire of what? What country?"

Sten raised an eyebrow, but despite that, he began listing off the numerous regions that were a part of the Empire's territory. While that was going on, Ranma gave a blank stare at his father. It wasn't like he was completely stupid when it came to geography, but he never heard of these places. Then again, he never really studied the stuff outside Asia and the Pacific. Genma returned the blank stare with a shrug of his shoulders. So much for that.

"So, is that part of Germany or something?" Ranma asked when Sten finally finished listing off the territories.

"Germany?"

"Ah, never mind," Ranma said with a shake of his head. Probably some rural nation, kind of like the Amazons and Musk. "Let's go see that Prime Minister of yours."

Sten looked surprised, but he nodded wordlessly and turned to head in that direction, motioning for the two to follow him.

Genma sidled up to Ranma. "You sure about this, boy? That Takamiya girl might be pulling their strings."

"Nah, they look too rural. Besides, this is a chance to make some money and get rid of that psycho heiress." Ranma frowned speculatively. "Though their currency might be worthless."

"Don't be stupid, boy. Even if it is, we'll just exchange it for trade goods like diamonds. Even places as backwater as this should have that. Just look at Africa; they've got plenty of those."

~o~

It hadn't taken long to arrive, especially after Sten found out the two could keep up and even exceed his traveling speed. The city itself was an anachronistic mix of rural and modern technology, a strangely contrasting aspect that would have bothered the two more if they hadn't seen worse, like in the Amazon village. The difference was that this had a more European or Middle Eastern aspect to it. Like while they had rifles—strange looking ones—on their guards, they didn't have any cars, only carriages. It was actually extremely big for a place that was supposedly out in the sticks. Nonetheless, its glamour could not be denied. Nor could the ruthlessness be denied.

On the way, they had passed by large wooden crosses that had been placed in a public square. Nailed to each of them was a man or a woman, tortured and mutilated, but still alive. Most of the wounds were not bleeding, but that was because the severed stumps and cuts had been cauterized. There was plenty of burnt or necrotized skin. Some moaned or futilely tried to speak, but the moment they opened their mouths, he saw that they were missing their tongues.

Ranma shifted his gaze away at that time. It was cruel, but he had no obligation to save them. They weren't innocent people. They were criminals sentenced to death, probably for something like murder. He wouldn't have seen this kind of thing in Japan, but he had been around Asia and the Middle East enough to see different variations of the same thing. Still, it didn't make it any easier to either look at or ignore.

The path they took was over the rooftops, so it wasn't long before they arrived at the palace. As glamorous and huge as it was, it wasn't really a big deal to either of the two Saotomes. They had visited much grander sights, or at least seen photographs of them, so it didn't have much of an awe-inspiring impact on them. However, inside was different. There were priceless paintings on the walls and furniture that could have come from a movie set, more than enough that Ranma had to keep one hand on Genma's gi to stop the older man's greed from getting the both of them in trouble. Everything from the chandeliers to the rug looked like it was expensively-made and sparkling new.

"If we had to run, how much do you think we could steal, boy?" Genma scratched his chin speculatively. "With some quick thinking, we can probably take all the paintings along this hall."

"Pops, at least be reasonable," Ranma whispered back. "If you're gonna take something, it's better to take something small so you can carry more."

"What about that Moose boy?"

"Mousse."

"Listen to what I'm saying. Didn't he have that hidden weapon technique? You can carry it all with that."

"Nah, I never figured it out."

"What? You should've done that already. What have you been doing for the last year?"

"Shut up, Pops." Ranma shoved his elbow into the older man's side. "What do you think I've been doing? All of that marriage stuff was your fault."

"Oh, what an ungrateful son I have! After I spent more than a decade of my life teaching you the ways of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts, this is how you repay me?"

"Stop being dramatic, Pops. It wasn't like you weren't doing it for yourself."

Genma's eyes glanced away. "I don't know what you mean."

"You just wanted me to inherit the dojo so you could leech off of me."

"Youth must support their elders. That's the natural way of life."

"Like with Happosai?"

Genma nearly slapped a palm over Ranma's mouth, but the pigtailed martial artist was quick enough to intercept it. "Don't speak the Master's name, lest you summon him!"

"What're you so scared about? He's still in Nerima."

"Do _not_ speak of him, boy." Genma glared at his son.

"Fine, fine. It's not like it's a big deal anyways. I can handle him."

"That's just your confidence speaking. You only think that because we haven't seen him for a few months, but mark my words, boy, you'll regret it if he comes."

Ranma didn't look happy, but he couldn't exactly deny it either. Happosai had a tendency to pop up where he was least wanted.

Sten stopped in front of a massive set of double doors, causing the two behind him quiet down. The doors slowly opened, revealing a dining room that was on par with a chapel's main sanctuary. A domed ceiling reached high above with each window being made of color-stained glass, each depicting a scene from the long history of the Empire. In the middle of the room was a long table, made to allow a single party of twelve to dine together. There were several maids and butlers in attendance as well as armored royal guards, bearing the insignia of the nation.

Seated at the end of the table, a position where one could comfortably view the double doors, sat a largely overweight man. Sporting a lion-like appearance with a scruffy, full mane of hair on his head and chin, he had all the appearance of one who indulged too much on his dinner plate. And at the moment, he was staring speculatively at the new arrivals.

"So these are the ones that the Path of Peace wanted." Honest bit a chunk from the steak on his fork, viciously ripping it apart with his teeth rather than cutting it into bite-sized pieces with a knife. While chewing, he said, "Well, come then. Take a seat and have a meal with me. I find that the best friendships are made at the dinner table."

Before he could even finish talking, Ranma and Genma were already seated at the table on opposite sides and were in the process of stuffing their mouths full of food. Their arms blurred as they worked through the plates, devouring them at inhuman speeds. They were more used to chopsticks, but that didn't mean they didn't know how to work their way around a fork and spoon. They proceeded to demonstrate that knowledge by occasionally using them to steal, block, and counter-snatch the morsels of food from each other's plates.

Even the Prime Minister was openly gaping at their display, unmindful of the fact that there was partially chewed food showing from his open mouth. Eventually, he shook his head at the sight. He had seen stranger things. Raising is fork, he took a bite and chomped down on metal. He looked down. His steak was gone.

"Enough!" Honest slammed his palm down on the table. It was one thing to take food from the shared plates, but it was another to take it straight from his hand. Ranma and Genma froze, the older man in the process of putting said steak into his mouth. "While I know the Eastern Islands you hail from are uncivilized…"

Ranma and Genma exchanged glances. Was that guy talking about Japan? Because that was completely wrong.

"…I'll have to ask you to eat slower for the benefit of those not similarly gifted."

Ranma shrugged his shoulders. Sure, why not? They were getting free food after all, and pretty delicious dishes at that. The two ate at a more subdued pace, which meant only one dish disappeared every couple of seconds. The Prime Minister didn't look quite please, but he let the matter slide.

"I am Prime Minister Honest. I've been wanting to meet you two for awhile now, though perhaps not in this way," he said jovially. "Forgive me. I only ordered him to escort you, not fight you."

Ranma waved it off. "It was fun."

"Yes, I heard that you defeated Sten in unarmed combat. That's a most impressive feat." Honest looked over at the Rakhasa Demon. "What's your opinion on these two fighters, Sten?"

"They outclassed me." Sten did not look at all put out admitting that.

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you use all your abilities?"

"No, but it wouldn't have mattered. He cannot manipulate his body to the same degree as I can, but his skill and mastery of his unarmed fighting style is on a completely different level than mine," Sten said solemnly.

"I see, I see. Very impressive, indeed." Honest turned back to the two feasting martial artist. "Where did you both learn how to fight?"

"From me. It's the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts," Genma proudly said. "I taught my son everything he knows from the moment he could walk."

"A family art, I see. No wonder I never heard anything about it. Genma Saotome, was it?" Seeing the nod from the bald martial artist, Honest smiled. "You're probably wondering how I found out about you two."

Genma blinked and stared blankly at the fatter man. The thought never entered his mind. Glancing at Ranma, he saw that his son was in the same state.

"You see, I saw both of you in a dream of mine." Seeing the disbelief, the Prime Minister laughed. "It's not that farfetched. I occasionally have prophetic dreams. I put some trust into them. They don't tend to be wrong," Honest lied smoothly. "I believe you two will be of great importance to this nation."

"Ah, man. Not another prophecy." Ranma groaned. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

"Now, now, it's not like I'm asking you to risk your life. I simply wish for you two to stay in this nation for awhile until we can discern more. It would be a bit troubling if you left so soon," Honest said. "Oh, don't look at me like that. I won't have you sitting around, doing nothing. In fact, I think it would be best to employ you two as Martial Arts teachers so you can spread your unique style. Our soldiers are in need of competent trainers to make sure that they can repel the enemies of the Empire. The pay is very handsome if you can teach them well."

Genma was not so foolish as to take in the Prime Minister's words at face value. He was a scammer himself, after all. Even though Honest's tone was friendly and inviting, he could detect that smug and predatory attitude hidden underneath that smile. To think that the man would try to out-scam him was laughable. He would turn the tables on him and leech out as much as he could.

"How much?" That was the first question out of Genma's mouth as soon as it was partially free of food.

Honest told him. They stared blankly at Prime Minister.

"Er, what Pops meant to say is how much is that in diamonds?"

"Jewels? I see. I suppose that would probably amount to…" The Prime Minister gave them a rough estimate.

"We'll take it," Genma said immediately. Scam artist or not, it was impossible to refuse that amount.

"Hey, Pops! Don't make a decision without talking to me about it first!" Ranma fumed.

"Boy, did you not hear what he said?! At that rate, we'll be rid of our debt…" Genma used his fingers to count. After he raised seven fingers, he gave up on counting. "…in a year or two. That's faster than any plan we can come up with."

"I suppose you're right for once, Pops, but what if that crazy girl sends people here? I don't wanna get anyone else involved."

"Don't worry, boy. We'll just do what we've been doing if it comes to that." That meant running the moment they see tanks coming.

"I guess. Though next time, discuss it with me first, old man."

"It's for your own good, boy. If you studied more back in Nerima, then I'd trust your noggin a little more. Let that be a lesson to you to not sleep during class next time."

"Like you're any better!"

Genma was about to respond, but Honest coughed into his hand. The Prime Minister didn't want to drag this on longer than it needed to be.

"We've an accord then. I'll have the maids show you to your rooms in the palace. If you require anything, tell the maids. They'll fetch it for you, as long as it's a reasonable request." Honest motioned with his index finger and two comely maids stepped forward. "They're also versed in night service if you so desire it. I doubt the stay here will be boring for you."

Ranma looked confused at the last statement, but Genma caught on, frowning slightly but saying nothing.

"Come on, boy. Let's get settled in." The two maids led the way out of the room as the two martial artists followed behind.

Once they left the room, Prime Minister Honest reached over the table and took a chicken leg. With a meaningful glance at the Rakshasa Demon, he said, "Give me the full report."

Sten dutifully recited every detail, from the start when Minister Bolic gave the order to his subsequent defeat. During the report, the Prime Minister began to look more and more intrigued, even as he ripped into the chicken's meat with his teeth. When Sten was done, Honest tapped a speculative finger against his bearded chin. Now that he knew exactly how the fight went, it increased his interest far more than he originally expected. Well, he half-expected it to be a somewhat decent fighter who had beaten the Rakshasa Demon through sheer luck, but this was much better.

"To have enough speed or instinct to render your Hundred Blazing Fist useless marks him as General-class by that fact alone. For their fists to harm you through your defenses and endurance cements that ranking." What made it even stranger was the fact that the battle was non-lethal. None of the wounds that Sten sustained were vital, nor did they have any sort of lasting damage. To aim specifically to incapacitate was a lot harder than simply killing.

"They're very skillful, but they've no murderous intent that I could see. Battle lust, yes, but not blood lust." Sten crossed his massive arms. "If they had gone lethal, I would have not survived. Even if I fight them again right now, they could still throw me off this mortal body with ease. I must train far more and far harder to defeat them."

"If all four of you were there, would you be able to beat them?"

"I'm not sure. Possibly, but one or two of us will fall before then. Mez and Ibara do not have as much damage resistance as I do."

"Perhaps that fool of a Lord in the Path of Peace was right after all."

"Do you wish for me to watch them?"

"Don't bother. The older one was able to hide from you, despite your enhanced senses. They make the perfect assassins, undetectable to even skilled warriors. Though, that makes them impossible to watch." The Prime Minister tossed the chicken leg bone onto his dinner plate. "I'm having the staff monitor them. Their employment limits their location, making it easy to watch them. Return to Bolic."

Sten nodded and bowed. He turned around to leave the room.

"And Sten." The Rakshasa Demon stopped and glanced back. Honest smiled viciously.

"Tell him that I'm pleased."


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed since Ranma and Genma had first arrived. To say that they had gotten used to palace life and their job would be a great understatement. They had taken to it like a fish to water, but that was because they were ignoring most of the palace etiquette. There was some discontent among the palace nobles about that, but not many were willing to speak out against someone under the Prime Minister's patronage.

At the moment, both father and son were slouching back at a relatively small table in one of the private dining rooms. Stacks and stacks of empty plates, reaching above even their standing height were sitting around on the table and even on the floor. Two maids—both standing next to a cart with even more plates of food—were standing at attention even though it was obvious at a glance that they were exhausted.

As for the Saotomes, their bellies were bloated with food and their cheeks were puffed out like a balloon. Ranma patted his distended belly and contentedly burped. A butler entered the room, bowing his head slightly to the two occupants.

"Master Ranma and Master Genma. I have been given a message from the Prime Minister to relay to you." Once he had both of their attention, the Butler continued. "In this single week alone, both of you have consumed enough to bankrupt a minor noble house. If you continue to consume such copious amounts, it will start being deducted from your pay."

"Fine." Genma grunted as he struggled to push himself up. "We had our fun. Right, boy?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good while it lasted." Ranma moved to stand as well.

"I thank you for your understanding, Masters." The butler bowed his head again.

"It's not a big deal." The moment that Ranma and Genma stood up, their extended bellies shrank, returning their form back to normal. The butler gaped at the sight, though the two maids whom had seen it all too many times before merely had thin, rueful smiles on their faces, the kind that seemed like they would fall off at any second. They were more than a bit jealous.

Ranma and Genma walked past the shocked butler and out the door, dutifully followed by the two tired maids. It was time for the morning class.

~o~

Ranma stared at the students from the front of the class, looking at them with the eyes of a teacher. They were all currently outside in the spare courtyard of the palace. Off to the side, Genma appeared to be doing nothing but leaning against the wall. In actuality, he was paying close attention to his son. Throughout the whole week, Genma had taught only rarely, but not because he wanted to foist all the work off onto his son. In truth, it was because he wanted Ranma to learn how to teach. After each class, he always went over with Ranma some tips and corrected some mistakes.

The class turned out not to be filled with actual soldiers. They were called the Imperial Guard, which was essentially this city's version of the police. They patrolled the streets and stopped crimes. He had at first thought they would be unruly and that he would have to beat some heads together, but it turned out that they were pretty enthusiastic about it. That pretty much stemmed from the fact that their direct superior had recently been murdered. Apparently, Captain Ogre had been lured away to a dark alley where an assassin then killed him with a sword. Ever since then, they wanted revenge on Night Raid, the assassination group, but they were too weak to fight.

Ranma didn't condone revenge, especially killing, but he understood the need. If someone killed his parents, then he would probably be trying to do the same. And from what he heard about Night Raid, they seemed like they deserved everything they had coming to them. From what he had heard, many important people in the Capital had been assassinated by Night Raid. Men, women, children, it didn't really seemed to matter to them. The thought that such a group was running around wasn't a good one. The pigtailed martial artist clapped his hands together, bringing the attention of the class to him.

"Okay, as you know, we've been doing strength and speed building exercises for the whole week so you could get a better foundation. You guys were already in pretty good condition before we started, but it wasn't enough. It's still not enough right now, but it'll do. We'll be moving onto some basic techniques, but remember to keep doing those strength and speed building exercises. I don't want any slacking off on that." Ranma pointed over to the nearby wall fence. "Remember, everything can be used as a training exercise. You see a fence, go walk on it to increase your balance. You've gotta have sure-footing even in the most unstable environments. Like, what if some guy you're chasing after threw his drink at your feet? You gotta be sure that you won't slip on it.

"But let's move on. I'm gonna be showing you some basic techniques. Some of these will look familiar to you, but it'll probably be a little different. That's because this is more efficient. I've seen how they taught it to you guys, and that way has a bunch of little mistakes in it that make it harder than it should be. It works the same, sure, but it still takes longer and requires more concentration and movement than it should. That's why I'm gonna break the habit out of you and put this in. It won't be easy, but then again, you wouldn't be taking my class if it was.

"Okay, the first thing I'm going to teach you is how to throw—" A wave of water splashed into her, turning him into his female form before a metal cup hit him—her on the head. A glance at her side informed the now redheaded girl what had happened. One of the maids was bowing apologetically, her wrinkled clothes showing signs of having tripped, but Ranma waved the apology off. The rest of the class didn't even bother to blink at the sight. It wasn't like this was the first time.

She was practically a water magnet so it wasn't even a couple of days before the secret was out. Not that it was really a secret in the first place, buts he didn't like to explain it when he didn't have to. People always eventually wanted to try it out, splashing her with cold and hot water repeatedly. It was like how some people would show her a cat after they were told about the nekoken. It was inevitable, but it was still annoying.

"Anyways, as I was saying. I'm gonna be teaching you how to throw your opponent. Right now, you put too much power into it, wasting it. Skills and techniques are one thing, but never forget that stamina is just as important." Ranma assumed an exaggerated stance, unmindful of how her wet shirt stuck to her ample chest. "Alright, watch closely. I'm gonna go through the motions. Eventually, I'm gonna need a volunteer to demonstrate properly, but right now, I'm showing you how to start the technique."

~o~

Emperor Makoto walked through one of the many corridors of the palace, followed closely by his entourage of guards and servants. Despite his status as the emperor of a thousand year old empire, there wasn't really much that he needed to do. Besides the occasional meetings to discuss a few issues or punish certain people, the administrators generally took care of most of the daily needs of the empire. When that didn't suffice, the Prime Minister usually stepped in and handled it.

As emperor, he had to be strong for his people. Sometimes, there were things that he was told that made him worry about his empire, but a small talk with Prime Minister Honest was all that it took to take the worries away. His benefactor always knew what to say, and he handled all the issues that worried him. After these talks, Makoto usually did not hear anything more on the subject from anyone, since Honest always solved it completely and promptly.

That was why he liked to take walks around the palace. Although these sights had long grown old and stale, he still visited them every now and then. He supposed that he could study; his tutors always wanted him to study more, but that was even more boring. He wouldn't be so bored if there were people to play with. Sure, there were plenty of people in the palace, but none of them were any good for playmates. It just wasn't fun when he knew the other players were losing on purpose. It was one of the nuisances of being emperor. If he called them out on it, they would start begging or crying, which always ruined his day. As he walked past the window, he noticed something. A flash of red.

Makoto abruptly turned and headed to the window, briefly confusing his entourage. Staring out, he saw something that was different. Or rather, someone. Down below in one of the courtyards was a group of Imperial Guards practicing martial arts. That in itself was a bit curious, but what drew his attention was the redheaded pigtailed girl who was moving around animatedly while the Imperial Guards watched.

It was like a dance, each step as elegant as the first. Even when she threw a punch through the air, there was something about how it was done that made him think of the artworks that decorated the palace's walls except somehow alive, like a painting in motion. It was fast enough that her movements slightly blurred, but slow enough that he could still watch.

Yet, the thing that entranced him the most was the joy-filled smile on her face. Pure and honest. So different from the frowns and dreary expressions that he was used to from the servants or those visiting the palace. So unlike the smiles that felt awkward or somehow wrong on the faces of his closest advisors, even though he could never pinpoint why. No, it was more like he never noticed they felt wrong. Not until this moment at least. Why was this girl's smile so different?

"Who is that?" Makoto's eyes still followed the redhead's movements, even as he addressed his entourage.

A maid took a step forward. "Ranma Saotome. The new martial arts instructor hired by the Prime Minister for the Imperial Guards."

"I want to meet her. Let's go down there."

"Your Highness, this is highly irregular," one of the butlers protested, taking a few steps forward to distinguish himself. "We'll arrange a meeting through the proper channels."

"No, I want to meet her now."

"But—"

"_Now_." The young emperor turned and glared at the butler, causing the butler to step back in fear. There was no real power behind the glare; it was a child's glare. However, the title of emperor, even for show, was enough to bury the servant six feet under if he overstepped his bounds.

The butler, thoroughly cowed, lowered his head and meekly said, "As you wish, Your Highness."

~o~

Prime Minister Honest walked through the courtyard at a leisurely pace, a cup of hot tea in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. He was headed towards where the young instructor that he hired was busy training the Imperial Guards in what seemed to be throwing techniques, showing what a punch an opponent might use and how to reverse it into a throw. He would have scoffed at that—a throw was hardly spectacular enough to warrant much attention—but he had decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, there must be something special about them to catch the Path of Peace's attention, something other than martial skills. Figuring it out was part of the challenge.

At the edge of his vision, he spotted the Emperor and his entourage approaching as well from another direction. He changed his path and headed straight for the young emperor who he had put on the throne.

"Your Highness, what brings you to the courtyard during the noon heat? I hope you aren't skipping your lessons. They're very important for your growth as an emperor," Honest said as he approached. The young emperor halted and turned to the Prime Minister with a smile.

"I just want to talk to her." Makoto pointed in the direction of the class, or more specifically, at where Ranma was tossing her volunteer like a rag doll.

"Ah, Ranma Saotome. That's right, you haven't been introduced to her yet. I've been meaning to do so when Your Highness was free." Honest nodded. He had wanted to keep the young man and his father a secret from the young emperor for a little while longer, but he knew the distinct possibility that this kind of meeting could happen. It was one of the risks he took by keeping the Saotome family under his watch; they would be nearly impossible to keep an eye on if he made them stay in the town, especially with that hiding ability of theirs. "Let's wait until their class is done."

"Yes, you're right as always." Emperor Makoto stood by the Prime Minister's side, watching as the redheaded girl smoothly flowed from one move to another.

Ranma was now showing the class how to counter an opponent's throws as well as counter any counter-throws. When he viewed it from the window, he saw the elegance in the way she moved, but seeing it up close was a whole different experience. There were small details that couldn't be seen from so far away. The way that her clothes swayed and wrinkled as she twisted and turned, tossing the roughed-up volunteer into the air before catching him on the way down. How the sweat on her brow made even the stray hairs that weren't drawn into her pigtail stick to her skin. Most importantly, that smile—that careless, joyful smile—was infinitely more brilliant, making him want to smile as well.

"That's not how you do it. You move your arm like this." Ranma demonstrated by going through the motions slowly so they could see how. "This way, even if they managed to stop your throw, they'd be in a bad position. You can use that opportunity to initiate a combo. What's a combo? It's like a series of predetermined moves that weave smoothly into each other. You're supposed to practice that series enough that you can flow from one move to the next without thinking, not giving your opponent any time to escape or defend. It's pretty devastating if you can pull it off."

"How interesting, these ideas from the Eastern Islands." The Prime Minister took a bite of his sandwich as he watched. The teenager seemed to know what he was talking about, but until he could see this in actual combat, he was still on the skeptical side.

"You're always eating, aren't you?"

"Delicious food is a necessity to keep up my good health. You should give it a taste. Would you like me to order the servants to make a sandwich for you too, your highness?"

Emperor Makoto simply shook his head, though his eyes never once strayed from the sight before him.

"Ah, just as well. It seems that the class is done." The members of the Imperial Guard began dispersing, though they did stop to pay their respects to the Emperor and the Prime Minister. That typically involved plenty of head lowering and repetitive praises, words that Makoto was all too familiar with. It took a little bit of time before the Imperial Guards dispersed back to their homes or the barrack to rest before the evening shift. The top two individuals of the Empire made their way over to redheaded martial artist who was drinking some water that one of the attending maids had given her.

"That was a splendid lesson," Honest said as he approached. "To be frank, I wasn't expecting much, but you've exceeded my—albeit low—expectations."

"Ah, thanks." Ranma rubbed the back of her head. She wasn't quite sure what to think of that statement, but she shrugged it off.

"There're some things I would like to discuss with you, but first, let me introduce you to His Highness, Emperor Makoto." The Prime Minister placed a hand on Makoto's shoulder.

Ranma glanced momentarily to the far wall, but Genma was gone. Damn Pops, leaving her to deal with this alone. She turned back to the little boy.

"Name's Ranma Saotome of the Saotome branch of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts. Nice to meet you." Ranma gave an easy smile as she bowed low, not at all nervous. It wasn't like it was the first time he met royalty before. There was Prince Herb, Prince Kirin, Prince Toma, Phoenix King Saffron, the Gambling King…

"Ah, it's nice to meet you too." Makoto moved to bow his head too, but at the last moment, he caught himself. He was being too distracted. He held out his hand in the sign of the Empire and waited for her to acknowledge it, a formality used amongst nobility. She did not look like she came from the Empire, but he was sure that she was foreign nobility, especially with her strange silk clothes.

Ranma blinked at the outstretched hand for a moment. Handshake? She took his hand into a firm yet comfortable grip and shook it.

Makoto gaped. That wasn't what he meant by that, but now that he was holding her hand, he couldn't help but focus on how warm it was. It was a bit rough, not at all like the softness that comes from a sheltered girl or even his personal attendants, but all the same, it made his heart race. It was beating almost painfully against his chest, and it became a little harder to breathe.

"You okay there? You're looking a little flushed." After Ranma shook his hand, she tried to disengage, but the younger boy kept his grip tight. She could easily throw him off, but she didn't want to offend him. Her mouth tended to do that for her, whether she liked it or not. Still, he looked a bit sick. She raised her other hand and placed her palm on the boy's forehead. "It feels pretty hot. Did you get a cold?"

Bliss. That was the only word to describe how he was feeling. It was so hot, but he didn't mind. Not at all. But all too quickly, the hand left his forehead. He unconsciously leaned his head slightly forward as if he was trying to recapture that warmth.

"I think that is enough for now." The Prime Minister moved in between the two, separating them with his arms even though he held a hot teacup in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He had a frown on his face. This was unexpected, but it wasn't problematic. "Your Highness seems to need some rest. Standing out in the sun for this long isn't good for your health."

"No, I'm fine," Makoto quickly said. He rubbed his thumb against his palm. The sensation—the feeling of her hand—hadn't left him yet. His heart was still beating harshly, but now, at least, he could think a little better. "I wish to talk to her more."

"Then let's bring this conversation inside for Your Majesty's health. It's about time for lunch."

"Yes, you're right as always, Prime Minister."

~o~

If this was a year ago, Ranma would have never thought he would be having lunch with the Emperor and the Prime Minister. Of course, that was in reference to the Japanese Emperor and Prime Minister. This was close enough though, wasn't it? Actually, his mom would kill him if she heard him say that. Literally.

Ranma ate at a more subdued pace, still remembering what the Prime Minister said when they first met. But even if she didn't remember that, she couldn't quite eat as fast when the Emperor—and he was pretty short for an emperor—kept asking questions about her life. As she regaled random stories from her life, Makoto seemed enraptured by them, enough that he kept interrupting her and sidetracking her with more and more questions.

She thought about using hot water to change into her normal form, but that would mean another session of having hot and cold water splashed onto her repeatedly. And she wouldn't be able to avoid it, seeing as how the little boy was an emperor. So she decided to save it for after lunch. If she was going to be splashed repeatedly, she wanted to do it on a full stomach.

"So what happened then?" Makoto had his elbows on the table, using his hands to hold up his head.

"Well, I beat him, of course. Pig-breath may have gotten a new technique, but I'm the best. When he charged at me, I jumped over and…" Ranma regaled the story as she animatedly waved around her hands and arms in conjunction with the tale. Of course, with a fork in one hand, it sometimes meant that the food he was holding up would drop from the instruments though she would quickly catch it back on the fork during its descent, unintentionally entertaining those at the table.

As the story began to come to an end, Makoto smiled happily. He hadn't had fun like this in a long time. Even if it was just storytelling, there were few people that could do it well for him. The servants tended to be too scared to tell a story like this, though that was logical. He was emperor, after all. Commoners were like that. Though, Ranma was different. She wasn't of noble birth—which he learned at the beginning of the lunch—or even from the Empire, but she was just wonderful.

Ranma wasn't afraid of him, despite the differences in their social position. She had a personality that was wondrous, an infectious smile that made him happy, a voice that was like a song being played, and a body that made him blush. No, it was more than just that.

Every aspect of her enthralled him.

"I've decided," Emperor Makoto announced after the story ended. "A royal decree."

"What've you decided at the lunch table, Your Highness?" Honest looked a little bit unsettled. Usually, the little emperor consulted him on matters of the state. To have him thinking on his own was a little worrying. He ripped off a bite of meat.

Makoto turned his gaze to the redheaded martial artist. "Ranma, are you a subject of the Empire?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." Well, she _was_ working for him, after all.

"With the power invested in me as Emperor, I hereby declare that you, Ranma Saotome, are henceforth my wife and Empress."

Honest choked on his food, coughing loudly as he pounded on his chest.

"Whoa, whoa. I got enough of that to deal with," Ranma said as she stood up. "Besides, I'm actually a man."

"A man?"

"Yeah, this form's a curse. I turn into a girl with cold water and back into a man with hot water." Ranma looked around for hot water but found none nearby.

Honest helpfully splashed him with a steaming hot cup of tea.

"Gah, not that hot!" Ranma's voice turned masculine as his body enlarged, losing the distinctive female features that he had before. Patting and rubbing his chest where the hot water splashed him, he grimaced. He could handle it, but it didn't mean he liked having scalding water thrown on him. He pulled up his shirt and showed off his now very masculine and muscular chest. "See, one hundred percent male."

"Hm." Makoto pursed his lips as he thought about it. That was a problem, wasn't it? He pressed a hand to his heart. What did he feel now? The rapid beats slowly calmed his mind. It answered him when his head could not. "You change into a woman with cold water?"

"Yep."

"Then I don't mind."

"Your highness, you've only met today," Honest said. "This is just an infatuation. If you'd just be patient, then it'll go away."

"I don't want it to go away."

"I'm not marrying you. I got enough to deal with as a guy with arranged marriages. I don't need some for my girl side too," Ranma said.

"Arranged marriages?" Makoto inquired.

"Yeah, Pops arranged a bunch of girls for me to marry for all kinds of stupid reasons, like that one for a bowl of rice, fish, and two pickles…"

~o~

The next day…

"Goddamnit, Pops!"

"It's for your own good, boy."

And that was how Ranma Saotome became arranged to be married to the Emperor.


	3. Chapter 3

Ranma walked into the courtyard for his routine morning practice. The sun was barely rising on the horizon, so there was peaceful atmosphere here. There were still a few servants moving about for the morning duties, but they were trained enough to keep their silence to not disturb the sleeping nobles and royalty. After being reprimanded a few times, Pops had to stop the early morning spars because of the noise.

After that, Genma got too lazy and stopped coming to the morning routine. There used to be some stuff with using the rocks for aerial combat practice, but that still caused too much noise. Not to mention when one of the rocks went out of his range and knocked a butler out cold. After that, he had to just stick with kata practice, at least until it was later in the day. Thus, the mornings tended to be pretty peaceful.

There was just one thing disturbing this serenity.

"You can come out now."

When nobody appeared, Ranma sighed and turned around to face the stalker who had been following him around for a week.

Makoto was hiding in a bush, even though the top of his head—and the entirety of his hat—was sticking out of the leaves. Two of the royal guards were trying to hide behind two trees just beyond the bush, but their bodies were only just barely covered by the tree trunks. No, that wasn't right. They weren't even trying to hide. If anything, they looked thoroughly amused.

Ranma's eye twitched. How do you deal with an amorous, sheltered kid? That was the question that was bothering Ranma the most right now. Usually, he would kick their asses, but this time was different. Even if Makoto wasn't an emperor, he was still just a kid and an untrained one to boot. He wasn't in the habit of picking on those weaker than himself, especially if they weren't really antagonizing him. Sure, one could mention the likes of Mousse, Kuno, and Gosunkugi, but they all started their fights one way or another, even if the latter one was very, very weak.

So how do you deal with him? Easy answer: you _don't_.

He slowly eased into his kata, following the practiced and familiar motions that had become almost instinctual. His arms and legs flowed from one movement to the next, his body twisting and turning to accommodate. It only took a couple of minutes before the world around him seemed to vanish as he got lost in the rhythm, his limbs gradually becoming a blur as he went faster and faster.

There was no clear form to it and each move differed greatly from each. That was because it was his own creation, a mixture of moves that he liked enough to take from the varying styles. For that very reason, it wasn't a very efficient kata. It transitioned from move to move with sometimes awkward positioning, which would make it very difficult for a practitioner who wasn't as flexible or as strong as he was. It was just as well; he had designed the kata for his own style, but even he had to admit, it wasn't a very _good_ kata. It had many of the moves that he needed, but it wasn't pieced together well.

For all the complaints he had about Genma, the old man was a great teacher. He could create katas that even a beginner could at least starting practicing with. Some of his best and most frequently used katas came from his father. They were just simply too efficient, putting moves together that easily connected to one another.

Sure, Genma put him through suicidal and unproven training techniques, but that was because his old man was pretty much forced to be an inventor. He didn't quite realize it until a long time after he first met Happosai that the grandmaster had a strong training method. Mobs of women chasing his old man increased his running speed and stamina while the beatings raised his pain tolerance and endurance. Most of all, while the women would beat you to oblivion, they wouldn't _kill_ you, making it one of the safest methods. Much safer than the Breaking Point technique that Ryoga used. There was just one cavat: you can't really use it on a child.

Ranma wouldn't have put it past his old man to use that method if he had been older, but he was definitely too young at a time. What mob of women would beat up an elementary school kid? Maybe a spanking at most, but that was hardly the life threatening situation that causes the trainee to exert themselves to their limit. So his Pops had to create methods from scratch or steal them from other schools.

Just because Ranma now understood _why_ didn't make him think his father was any less stupid, though. His kata began to wind down as he came to the end. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight as he stretched his body a bit.

Ranma blinked when he heard some noise from his audience. Makoto was clapping, having stood up from his hiding position. It took a moment before Makoto realized what he had done and quickly dropped back down into the bush.

"If you're gonna be here the whole time, you might as well come practice with me," Ranma said. He watched as Makoto slowly poked his head out of the bush. For someone who was an emperor, Makoto acted a bit like Tsubasa. In fact, if you put some make-up on him, get him a wig and a bunch of props to hide in, he could actually pull the look off. Though, puberty would probably change that.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Tsubasa and Konatsu were already past puberty, weren't they?

"As long as you don't harm him," the royal bodyguard said. Despite his joking manner, there was a clear and obvious threat in his words.

"Don't worry. Wasn't planning to even if you didn't say it." Ranma walked over to the bush and offered his hand. "Now come on. I'll teach you a basic kata."

Makoto shyly smiled and slowly took his hand. Though, there was a question on his mind.

"What's a kata?"

~o~

"You were right, Prime Minister. It worked just as you said it would." Makoto was looking pleased with himself as he stood in front of the portly Prime Minister. Said portly man smiled back.

"No, all the credit belongs to you. A wise emperor such as yourself knows when and who to seek help from."

"No, no, the credit belongs to you. You're the one who knows such useful advice."

"Your highness, I thank you for the praise."

"I…need help on another matter."

"I'm all ears."

~o~

Ranma stood in the plaza as the crowd shuffled and moved along around him. It was finally good to be out of the palace. There was nothing wrong with the place; it had good food and comfortable bedding, but it was getting pretty exhausting being cooped up in there. Not to mention that it got him away from that clingy emperor.

Ever since that declaration and the subsequent betrothal, Makoto had taken to following him around. Not just once or twice, but _all the time_.

It was pretty creepy. Not Kuno-creepy, but still not pleasant. He knew that he should be a bit more lenient; Makoto was just a kid after all, and it wasn't like the kid was doing anything perverted. Hell, he wasn't even splashing him with cold water, though Makoto tended to get pretty affectionate when he was in his female form. Still, it wasn't too bad, overall. However, the problem was that Makoto was always there.

Whenever the boy wasn't in class, he had taken to finding Ranma and following him around. He wasn't quite sure how the kid was always finding him, even when he was trying to hide. It had been a week since he first met Makoto, so it was starting to work on his nerves seeing his face every time he looked around. Thankfully, the Prime Minister offered him a chance to accompany the Imperial Guards on a patrol. Naturally, he took it. The official reason was that he would be observing their duties to better help come up with teaching plans. The _real_ reason was that he would finally be able to see the city. Besides, even if he wasn't curious about the city, he wasn't going to reject a chance for some relief from Makoto.

And of course, there was Pops. The old man engaged him yet again, but it wasn't like Genma was actually expecting them to get married. If he didn't accept the Takamiya heiress, he sure as hell wasn't going to accept his son getting married to the ruler of some backwater nation. Nah, according to the old man, it was all a ruse. Just put up with it, get the dowry, and get out. Since this was a backwater country, it wasn't like they could chase the two all across the world like the Takamiya Conglomerate could. They could probably lose them after passing through a couple of countries.

He didn't really like this method—in fact, he wouldn't have used this if it had been a few months back—but the Takamiya heiress really did push him to the limits. At this point, he was desperate enough to get rid of that psycho that he was willing to try any method short of seriously hurting her, even if that method happened to be a bit unsavory.

The problem was that the dowry was huge. So huge, in fact, that it was impossible to transport it all out of the country with only their backpacks. If it was paper money, then it would be easier, but this was chests filled with jewelry and diamonds. Even with a carriage, they would have to leave a good third of it behind—not that either of them thought they could outrun their pursuers while in a carriage; the tracks and roads would make it way too easy to them to be discovered and chased down.

They had thought about shipping it out just a few days in advance of leaving, but smuggling that amount of loot, especially out of the palace, wasn't an easy task. There were more eyes and ears in the palace than either of the Saotome men were used to, and the mouths that accompanied those body parts wouldn't be idle. In fact, it was how they were kicked out of some temples and dojos in the past when he was much younger.

It wasn't like they had a bank account set up so that they could easily store it once they got it out, either, not that he expected them to be able to bank jewels and diamonds. That was the kind of thing that catches the attention of the international police and, through them, Takamiya. They would need to convert it to money, but the currency here looked like it would be worthless elsewhere since it was only just a bunch of roughly-made coins. Not to mention, it wasn't like they knew how to convert it to cash through the black markets anyways.

Still, there was a way to solve both problems. Nabiki would definitely be able to do something about it. All they had to do was ship to it all to Nabiki and then she could take care of it. Of course, finding a shipping route and all that was not going to be easy, and he would have to test it out first by sending a letter to the Tendo dojo. Problem was that if he did that, he was pretty sure it was going to be intercepted by the Takamiya Conglomerate and traced back. Though, it should be fine if he did it in a roundabout manner. Like sending the letter to Daisuke or Hiroshi and getting them to give it to Nabiki.

So all he had to do now was find a ship that could get to Japan. And from the looks of town, that ship certainly wasn't going to be a modern ship. That meant it would take months just for the letter to reach Nabiki. Still, it was better than nothing, and if he could get all the jewels out, he would be a free man. No more psycho heiress sending dive-bombing, giant spider-bots from cargo aircrafts. A shudder ran through him. He still remembered how many machine guns and rocket launchers they put on those things. She spent far more money trying to kill him than she did loaning them the money in the first place.

But it wasn't like she would have any claim over him once he paid back the debt, right? After all, she did went out of her way to prevent that by using her family's connections to cheat them out of their money. Though, they were able to detect and stop those ninja thieves after the first time.

"Ranma, it's almost time to go to the next patrol point."

To his side were two Imperial Guards, each properly dressed from head to toe in their uniform and helmet. They were two of the members from his class, the ones that he had been assigned to follow along on their patrol route. They were both carrying a blocky-looking automatic rifle.

He really didn't like guns, but it was to be expected that they would have them. They were the police, after all. In the hands of the proper authorities, it was as much for deterrence as it was for protection, especially with an assassin group lurking around.

"Ah, sorry 'bout that." He rubbed the back of his head.

"Don't worry, Ranma. This your first time out in the city?"

"Yeah, I only seen it once when I was on my way to the palace."

"We'll show you some good places to eat at then."

Ranma perked up at the mention of food. The palace's food was delicious, and he could practically ask them to make anything. Well, anything that was made for nobles in this country. However, the food was a bit too stiff and rigid, like it needed to always be made a certain way. It lacked that subtle indescribable touch that Kasumi always gave her food, even if it didn't stand up to the quality of the royal kitchen. And besides, something like okonomiyaki wasn't something that you would find served in any royal kitchen. Finding out about new types of food was one of the best things about traveling.

As they walked along the stone path, one of his escorts asked a question. "There's this rumor going around that you beat up a Rakshasa Demon. Is it true?"

"Oh, you mean the bald guy? Nah, it was more like he gave up. I mean, I did knock him around a bit, but it wasn't like it was a real fight."

"…what do you mean by 'knock him around a bit'?"

"I just ganged up on him with Pops before I found out that he wasn't one of the guys chasing after us. I felt a bit bad about it so I let him get some free shots off me, but he was too slow to hit the broadside of a barnyard. After that, he just kinda gave up." Ranma shrugged. "I wanted to fight more, but it's pointless if the guy's lost his will, y'know?"

"That's amazing."

Ranma puffed out his chest. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'd ever lose."

"You shouldn't say that. There are some crazy people that are on a whole different level, like General Esdeath and Grand General Budo."

"Oh, really? I wonder if I can get a spar with them."

The two guards looked at each with incredulousness before they burst out laughing. Ranma looked indignant at their mirth.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing." The guard wiped away a stray tear caused by his laughing. "You have to understand, Ranma, that Grand General Budo is a person who is worth ten thousand soldiers, and General Esdeath is the only one who can rival him."

"Yeah, well, I still think I can take them."

"Don't even joke about that. That's practically a death sentence," the guard said. "You're better off fighting a S-ranked Danger Beast."

"Where are they now?"

"General Esdeath is fighting a war with the Northern Tribes right now, but Grand General Budo is in the palace," the other guard said. "He's always training the Imperial Guards at the barracks."

"I'll go find him when I get back."

The guards shared a glance. That was not going to work out well. They liked the teenager enough that they didn't want to see him get hurt badly, and he would definitely be beaten within an inch of his life by Grand General Budo, especially with how arrogant he was acting. He wouldn't be killed, of course, but it still wouldn't be pretty.

Not to mention that the Prime Minister would have their heads. Before going out on this patrol, the Prime Minister had a strict conference with them. It mainly was about what route they would take, what they could show Ranma of the capital, and what they couldn't talk about. It wasn't strictly said, but they assumed that Ranma becoming a vegetable after a spar with Grand General Budo would probably raise the Prime Minister's ire.

A grin slowly formed on one of the guard's faces. "Why not make it an official challenge?"

The other guard's grin grew to match. "That way, even if you lose, you can still show off your skills, and maybe earn some money."

"I'm not gonna lose."

"Of course you won't. I believe in you," the guard lied. There was no doubt about it that the teenager was going to lose, but at least they could minimize the damage this way. By having the Emperor watch the match, Grand General Budo would at least refrain from beating him too badly. Or at the very least, the Emperor could stop the fight if it got out of hand. Either way, it would only put the boy out of commission for a few weeks at most, instead of a quarter of a year or worse. That was a big difference. Not to mention, the Prime Minister couldn't blame them if it happened this way. "Think about it. You can show everyone how good you are at martial arts. There is the rumor about the Rakshasa and the fact that you're teaching some of the Imperial Guards, but no one knows about your skills for sure."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right."

"Oh? Are you afraid of little attention?"

"I ain't afraid of nothing!"

"Good. Then, it's a promise, okay? Go talk with your boss about it. He'll arrange it for you." The guard put a hand on Ranma's shoulder. The pigtailed martial artist was about to protest before the guard cut him off. "To celebrate, why don't we get some ice cream? There's a good shop right around the corner. My treat."

"Ice cream?" Ranma perked up, putting the previous matter out of his mind. As much as it wasn't really manly to eat ice cream, at least in his normal form, he supposed it was fine since he was in the company of the two guards. They were guys too, after all, and if they could eat it without being embarrassed, so could he.

~o~

The rest of the patrol went by without much happening. The thing about this city was that it had a strange vibe to it. The people around here were pretty downcast even as they went about their daily lives. A good portion of them had dark looks on their faces and a dull gait to their steps, even more so than what Ranma thought would be normal for workers who have to make their way home just before sundown. He had heard there was a recession, but this was pretty bad. Japan was in the middle of a recession too, yet it was nothing like this. It wasn't to say all of them were this way; there were still a few happy-go-lucky people walking around, but they were in the minority.

It seemed like another reason why people were afraid was because of an assassination group that was active in the capital. Night Raid, it was called. They didn't just target important people; they went after merchants, wealthy families, and even soldiers. One of the victims seemed to be their captain, a swordsman named Ogre.

Ranma had been shown pictures of the four known Night Raid members. They didn't really look that old at all, and one of them was even younger than he was. Still, he had fought enough to know that age and appearances didn't matter, not in a fight. Happosai and Cologne were as old as they come, while Hinako was deceptively young. They sometimes even had trump cards up their sleeves, like turning into an Asura.

"I'm never treating you to food again!" The guard was nearly on the verge of tears as he looked at his severely depleted pouch of coins.

"Hey! I held back."

"You call that holding back?!" He raised the pouch in front of Ranma's face. "It's halfway empty."

"Nah, it's…halfway full."

"_Never again_."

Ranma waved it off. It wasn't like he was expecting to get a free meal from that guy again in the first place. They walked along the patrol route as the guard continued to whine and rant about it. He was now on the subject of how Ranma was getting paid more so he should pay him back, not that Ranma was listening at all.

No, he was actually feeling a little uneasy. It was like the feeling he got when Gosunkugi started taking pictures of him, the ones that he always spotted and posed for. Except this time, when he looked in the direction that he thought it was coming from, he didn't see anybody that could be the cause. There was even one point where he felt it coming from a brick wall. Still, someone was watching him. It looked like he would have to initiate this if he wanted some peace.

"Why don't you two go back first? I got something I gotta do here," Ranma said as casually as he could.

The two guards exchanged a knowing look.

"Can't do that, Ranma. We're under orders."

"Guess it can't be helped. Let's take a detour." Ranma turned and headed into a nearby dark alleyway, ignoring the protest of the two guards. It was dank and smelled pretty badly, but he didn't mind. That was because he found who he was looking for at the dead end. Standing before the wall was a man in a trenchcoat with a _very_ toothy smile. Oddly enough, there was a third eye on his forehead—no wait, it was just an eye accessory on a headband. The tips of blades were sticking out of the end of his trenchcoat's long sleeves.

"Wait, isn't that Zank the Beheader?!" Both guards had their rifles up in a flash, their training kicking in as they stepped in front of Ranma. However, Zank was off the wall and charging even as they fired, weaving through the waves of bullets as if they weren't there. His smile never faded and even widened maniacally to the limits of his face as the blades of his katars extended out of the arm sleeves of his trenchcoat.

"Don't move!" Zank instinctually froze at that shout before the sole of a black slipper slammed into his chest with enough force to rocket him back across the distance to the dead end. His back crashed into the wall with barely a grunt, but he was quick to land on his feet. His smile had slipped, but it grew again when he saw who it was. The pigtailed martial artist was standing casually in front of the two guards, his hands inside his pockets.

"You two stand back," Ranma said. "He's mine."

"Ranma, this isn't the time for chivalry. This man is dangerous," one of the guards said as he began to reload his rifle. The other guard took out a whistle and blew into it, sending out a loud, shrill noise to call for reinforcements. "He's a serial killer that's known for cutting off his victims' heads. Worse, he's a Teigu user. We need to work together."

"No, this is my fight." Ranma's gaze hardened on the trenchcoat-wearing man. "He was watching me for awhile now, so he's definitely after me. Don't know why, but I don't care. I'm gonna put him down."

"This is our business too. He's a criminal. If anything, it's not your business," the other guard said.

"That's why I didn't want to get you guys involved. But yeah, let me beat him up just for now. Trust me on this and step back. Don't want you two to get caught in the crossfire." When Ranma saw that both were reluctant, he said, "Don't worry. I'm the best."

Zank laughed loudly and freely, pulling the attention of all three back on the beheader. "I knew you were different. I saw it, I saw it. Hiding your skills so closely, so perfectly. The skills of an assassin. Happy, happy! You can't hide from my observation.

"Do you not see this Teigu on my forehead? It gives me five sights that—" Zank ducked his head as a foot crashed into the wall in the spot where his head used to be, shattering the brick and sending the fragments flying. One of the brick shards cut his cheek as he swung his blade, but the boy was gone. Instead, Ranma was crouching on top of the wall, looking down on him.

"That's pretty impressive. I didn't think you got it in you to dodge that," Ranma said.

Zank took a step away from the teenager. He had barely seen it coming. Even with his Teigu allowing him to see and predict the fighter's actions from the miniscule movements of his body, there was barely any time to avoid the attack at all. Before he could think any more, Ranma jumped off the wall. Zank stabbed one of his katars forward to skewer the boy in mid-air, but Ranma merely lifted his legs and landed on the tip of the blade. He barely raised his other arm to block the kick that followed, his arm aching under the impact. Ranma jumped off, landing lightly on his feet before charging into the Beheader's range.

Only through the power of his Teigu was Zank able to dodge each and every one of the punches and kicks that followed, though just barely. Still, the speed and amount were increasing rapidly. This was going to end badly at this rate. He needed a way to turn it into his favor, and he knew just the thing. His third eye activated its illusion ability.

Just as Ranma was about to throw another punch, he stopped. Where the murderer once was, Akane now stood there with wide eyes.

"Is that you, Ranma?"

Ranma shut his eyes tightly and shouted, "I ain't stupid!" He rammed his head forward, slamming into Akane's forehead with a headbutt. The illusion flickered out as Zank fell back, holding the spot on his stomach where Ranma's head struck him. The pigtailed martial artist opened his eyes with a glare. He was angry now. It didn't feel right to do that, but by closing his eyes, it made it easier. That didn't mean it didn't piss him off.

"You can't defeat me," Zank said as he readied his blades. "I can read your thoughts and predict your attacks by watching the miniscule movements of your body."

"Well, read this!" Ranma charged into the beheader's range again, but this time, Zank was ready. The killer could see the boy's arms rear back in order to launch a punch. The killer moved his blades into position to intercept Ranma's fists and slice them off.

"Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire!"

Ranma's arms vanished into a blur as hundreds of his punches landed on the serial killer. Too fast to see, too many to count, and too heavy to feel. Flesh yielded and bones broke under the brutal assault. Zank could barely move as the fists landed continuously and endlessly on his increasingly battered body. By the time the attack finished, the pain finally set in, overwhelming his senses. His eyes rolled into his head, and he fell backward, foaming at the mouth.

Ranma rolled his shoulders. It had been awhile since he used that move. It was probably overkill, but the guy pissed him off. Not to mention that he was a murderer. He probably deserved everything he got.

"That…that was amazing." The looks of adoration and wonder on the guards' faces made Ranma feel flustered. "You defeated a Teigu user!"

"Ah, I been meaning to ask. What's a Teigu?"

Both of them gaped at the teenager. "You mean you fought him without knowing?!"

"He didn't look hard. Sure, he's got some fancy tricks, but it wasn't like he ever had a chance. I didn't even have to use any of my stronger techniques."

"You might even be able to go against Grand General Budo on even terms." The guard said the next part under his breath. "…for a few minutes."

The teenager saved their lives, but Grand General Budo was still on a whole different level.

"So what's a Teigu?"

"Oh right. A Teigu is a special weapon created out of materials collected from Danger Beasts. Forty-eight of them were made back when the Empire was first created and…"

~o~

"I've heard that you've did a service to the Empire today. Zank the Beheader has been a thorn in our side for many months. Your achievement has not been ignored." There was a frosty expression on Emperor Makoto's face as he sat on his throne which was at a total contrast to his words. By his side, the Prime Minister stood carelessly, biting into the dried jerky in his hand.

The pigtailed martial artist, for his part, was fidgeting uncomfortably from that out of place expression on Makoto's face. It wasn't like it scared him, but it felt wrong. In all the time that he had known Makoto, he had mostly seen only the positive side of the Emperor. Not as unnerving as seeing Kasumi mad, but it still felt uncomfortable.

"It was nothing. That guy was pretty easy."

"Be that as it may, you still deserve a reward for your efforts." A thin smile pulled onto Makoto's face. "Let it not be said that the Empire fails to reward its subjects for their bravery."

"I guess…"

"As a reward for defeating the criminal Zank and retrieving the Teigu—doing unto the Empire this great service—I, Emperor Makoto, took the liberty of having all your possessions moved into my bedroom."

The room was silent as every servant and official in the room gawked. It was a few moments before the pandemonium set in.

"What?" Genma stumbled out of where he had been hiding behind a pillar.

"You did _what?_" Ranma looked lividly at Makoto, completely ignoring his father who rushed up to stand by him to state his protest.

The Prime Minister chuckled. It was the reason that the Emperor wanted Ranma out of the palace for the day. Capturing Zank was simply a convenient excuse for it. Seeing the flabbergasted looks on their faces had made it all worth it. Though, of course, he had been privy to all this knowledge right from the start, directly from the mouth of the young Emperor.

"Silence!" The command was heeded as the room quieted down. Makoto's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you wish to reject it?"

"Yep."

Makoto held in his panic and glanced at Honest. The Prime Minister nodded reassuringly. He turned back to Ranma. "What are your reasons?"

"You're going to splash me with water and do something perverted, aren't you?" Ranma shook his head. "Uh-uh. I may turn into a girl, but I'm still a guy on the inside."

"Ranma, I'm saddened that you think so poorly of me." Makoto gasped dramatically, peeking a glance at the Prime Minister. Honest, for his part, was holding back a grimace at the overdramatic acting, but he managed to nod his head anyways. "I never intended to do that. It's just so lonely that I wanted a friend to be around, someone who would treat me as a human being, and not simply as my lofty station would dictate."

"Er, well." Ranma fidgeted. "I guess that's fine—"

"Don't be stupid, boy!" Genma smacked his son's head. "Can't you see he's…"

A pouch full of coin fell to the floors with a loud clang, shuffling the coins noisily within.

"Pardon me," the Prime Minister said jovially as he reached down. "It seemed the tie holding up my coin purse broke. If some poor ruffian were to pick it up, I would have to take it back. Every single last coin. Because you know, coins are very valuable these days, especially to the commoners. If I couldn't get all the coins, then I would have to report the crime. Why, just the other day, I had to string up some purse stealers to wooden crosses as punishment."

Genma paled.

"There's an important saying: 'While someone might carry my coin purse for me, it's still mine.'"

"On second thought, son," Genma said, nervously gulping. "The Emperor needs a companion. Someone to show him the art."

"Uh, you okay, Pops?" Ranma examined Genma with a quirked eye.

"N-never better, boy!"

"Well, if you say so." Ranma shrugged his shoulders as he turned back to Makoto. "I guess it can't hurt."

Makoto smiled brightly.

The Prime Minister merely chuckled. Oh, how wrong he was.

~o~

The birds were chirping brightly as the morning sun rose beyond the horizon.

The moment that Ranma stepped into the courtyard to start his morning practice, Genma appeared in front of him. He grabbed his son's shoulders and leaned into despite Ranma's angry protests.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, old man?!"

Genma smelled the boy. Moving his head around like a dog, he sniffed at various places before he finally released his son and backed off.

"Good, you smell normal."

"What are you? A dog?!" Ranma lashed out with a kick, but Genma had already moved beyond his range. Despite his weight, Genma landed lightly on the tip of his toe.

"I don't think I need to tell you, boy, but don't be fooled by that child," Genma said. "He may be naïve, but the one behind him is far smarter than you."

Ranma was in front of Genma in that moment and punted him into the sky.

"I'd like to hear you say that again!" Ranma shouted at the disappearing form of his father. He smirked, more than a bit satisfied. Besides, what nonsense was Pops spouting now? Person behind Makoto? A ghost? The kid was always sitting on a throne so there was no one behind him. Even his bodyguards were always to the side or maybe a little farther off, but it couldn't really be considered behind.

Though, it wasn't like Pops made sense half the time. The only reason Genma really got back into fighting shape was because of all those killers and cops that the Takamiya heiress sent their way. That psycho rich girl. That...errr…

Now that he thought about it, he never did find out what the girl's first name was.

~o~

"Ah, your highness, how did the first night go?"

"It was fun, Prime Minister. We played a bunch of different games."

"Ah, were they of the sexual kind?"

"Hm? What's that?"

"…never mind."


	4. Chapter 4

Life had pretty much settled down into a routine for the two Saotomes. Genma had been spending most of his days smuggling as much of the dowry as he could out of the castle. Where he was storing it was a mystery even to Ranma.

Ranma, for his part, had looked around for some ships to deliver the letter, but no matter how many sailors he asked, no one knew anything about Japan. In fact, they didn't know anything about Asia. This country was even more isolated than the villages at Jusenkyo were. Despite the hint of modern technology here and there, it was like one of those historical sites on those movies Nabiki liked to watch.

Modern ships? Hah. They were all old-fashioned sailing ships. They didn't use any gas or coal or anything—just wind and manpower. It was really disappointing, but it looked like they were going to have to get the stuff out across land routes. However, that presented a problem as well. They weren't going to be able to carry all of their newfound wealth, not when the Takamiya Conglomerate could find their trail at any time.

Now that he thought about it, it had been some time already. He had fully expected those crazy mercenaries to pop out of nowhere for awhile now, but there was still no sight of them. That was more than a bit of relief. For the past few months, those private military companies had been hounding the two constantly, day and night. It had even gotten to the point where they knew that they couldn't stay anywhere for more than a week, yet here they were, already a month into their stay in this country with no sign of anything happening. Maybe it was because it was so isolated from the rest of the world that it was hard to find. That could explain why they didn't even know where Europe or Asia was. It was only a matter of time before that crazy heiress found them, but it was still nice to be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.

Even if it was kind of boring.

Compared to the life that he led in Nerima where there was always a fight around the corner, or the hunted lifestyle that he just recently had, this was very tame in comparison. When there were so many things going on, he always wanted some peace and quiet. Now that he had it, for far longer than he thought possible, it just wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

He still patrolled the town now and then with the Imperial Guard, but the happenings of the first day were pretty isolated. The crimes that he put to a stop were usually pickpocketing, purse-snatching, and petty theft. There was also that time with a couple of drunkards who were talking badly about the Prime Minister. Those guys got carted off to jail, probably to sleep off the alcohol in prison and get released with a small fine in the morning. Some of the things that were being said about the Prime Minister were pretty horrible, but it wasn't like these random rumors weren't happening everywhere else in the world. He had been in enough bars, watching Genma complain about this minister or that president while getting drunk off the free drinks people gave him for that.

Speaking of the Prime Minister…

He was still waiting on Honest to arrange the spar with Budo. It kept getting delayed, somehow. Well, someone with the rank of General was bound to be busy, but this was kind of getting ridiculous. It had been weeks since he first asked, and no amount of pestering had gotten the Prime Minister to hurry up on that account. He had even tried to go talk to the General directly. Unfortunately, he was denied entry by the guards. It would have been simple to just jump onto the roof and sneak in, but he had been in enough of those situations before that he knew how it was going to turn out.

It wouldn't be just a talk; it would probably turn into a fight in an instant. Now, saying Ranma was pretty confident in his abilities would be an understatement, but even he couldn't beat up an entire barrack filled with fighters. It was like asking for a bad time. If it was just a mob of women beating up someone they thought was a pervert, it wouldn't be so bad—maybe a couple of days in bed. Here, however, it would end in death, and he would be the one at fault since he was the trespasser.

Ranma leaned forward in her chair and downed the ice cream sundae in one gulp. Of course, she was in her female form at the moment. As much as she liked the desert, it was still way too feminine for her to even think about buying in her male form, at least when she was alone. And now that she had money, she could afford to pig out on loads of ice cream. That wasn't to say that she didn't try to do her usual method by acting cutesy and overloading the worker's brain to get free ice cream, but that worked a little too well when almost everyone in the capital knew who she was.

Yeah, that was right. They knew who she was. She supposed that she had been a bit naïve to think they didn't. Though, it still kind of pissed her off with the nickname they gave her. "The Emperor's fiancée."

After that, well, everyone was just plain afraid. They gave her so much free stuff that it didn't feel right anymore. The fact that they were doing it out of fear made her feel guilty about it. So she returned it and paid for it properly. She was getting paid after all. And even if she wasn't, there was the dowry.

So here she was, sitting at a table right outside the ice cream shop and enjoying the stacks of ice cream on her table. There were plenty of spectators, though some tried to be less obvious about it than others. They watched for a variety of reasons like her rumored identity or her eating habits.

"Still eating a lot, I see." An man dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Guard sat down in the chair opposite to Ranma. For her part, she didn't even bother to look up from her eating. She already knew who it was. "And attracting just as much attention."

"I'm used to it." Ranma finally looked up and wiped her mouth on a napkin. The man talking to her was actually the same guard who was with her when Zank the Beheader attacked. There was actually a serious expression on his face. "Something happened?"

"Yes, orders from the top. The Prime Minister wants you on a case."

"Ice cream?" Ranma nudged a tray of chocolate ice cream towards the man, but he shook his head.

"No, thanks," he said. "It's an assassination case. An official was assassinated two days ago. He wants you to kill—"

"I don't kill."

"…or apprehend the perpetrators. They're a group called Night Raid. I remember telling you about them awhile back."

"Yeah." Ranma took a bite of her ice cream, which was strange as she usually devoured the whole thing.

"They're dangerous. The Prime Minister is not expecting you to do too much. He has recalled General Esdeath back to the capital to deal with them, but he wants you to hold them off until then. He said that if you manage to get one of them, Grand General Budo would be willing to accept the spar."

Ranma perked up. The reward was pretty good, and he wasn't averse to beating the crap out of assassins. In fact, these assassinations didn't sit well with him. Murder would never sit well with him.

"You don't have to accept this job, Ranma." The guard propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on top of his steepled fingers. "It's dangerous. Very dangerous. Every member of Night Raid is a Teigu user. I know you defeated Zank, but these people are different. They're professionals."

"Doesn't change anything."

"I thought you would say that." The guard sighed. "Here I am, giving you some advice out of the goodness of my heart. Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Don't worry. I can handle it."

"Then I guess I should introduce you to your partner."

"Partner?"

The guard didn't answer as he raised his hand and motioned with it. It was only a moment before a short girl walked up to the table, dressed in the Imperial Guard uniform. Walking by her side on its hind legs was a puppy with a collar. Or at least, it kind of looked like a puppy.

"Ranma, meet Seryu, the only Imperial Guard member to own a Teigu." The unshaven man motioned for Seryu to come sit at the table. "Seryu, meet Ranma, the fiancée of the Emperor and a martial arts teacher for some of the Imperial Guards.

Ranma had a sour look on her face at her title, though Seryu didn't notice as she dragged over a seat from a nearby table to theirs. Sitting down, she happily stuck her hand out to the gender-changed girl.

"It's nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you in the barracks."

"Eh? What do they say?" Ranma took her hand and shook it.

The guard looked startled. "Ah, that's not really a necessary—"

"They talked about you a whole bunch. Like how you fell in love with the Emperor at first sight, and how you were probably pregnant by now."

Ranma's eye twitched. "They did, did they?"

The man started sweating. "Ah, look at the time. I need to get back on my patrol." He started to rise from his seat, but Ranma grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down. "Ahaha, they're just rumors."

Seryu looked confused. "But you're the one who told me about them."

"Oh, he did, did he? It looks like we need another practice spar." Ranma looked at the profusely sweating guard with a glare.

~o~

Ranma brushed off her hands, leaving the thoroughly beaten up guard sitting on a bench. It wasn't a heavy beating; she just gave him a once over. After he wakes up, he would just be sore for a day or two. By her side, Seryu and Koro were walking along happily as if they hadn't just witnessed a one-sided beat-down.

"So what's that puppy's name?"

"Koro. He's not a puppy. He's actually the Teigu, Hekatonkheires."

"Oh, this is a Teigu?" Ranma crouched down and patted its head. The puppy-like Teigu rubbed its head against her palm affectionately.

"Oh! Koro doesn't usually like other people that much."

"Eh. I been around a few dogs before." They were a lot better than the dreaded furry monsters with whiskers. "Besides, this little guy is gonna help us catch those assassins."

Seryu was looking at Ranma with awe. Despite the fact that she was going to be married to the Emperor, she was out here dispensing justice. That was amazingly dedicated of her. Was she also a fellow justice seeker? She had to know.

"Are you a warrior of justice too?"

"Warrior of justice? Nah, I just can't stand back when something like that is happening in front of me." Ranma stood back up to Koro's displeased whining.

"Then you are, you are!" Seryu clapped her hands delightedly. "Justice shall never yield to evil. That's what my papa always used to say."

"Ah, for me, Pops always used to say, 'A martial artist's duty is fraught with perils'," Ranma said, mimicking her father in the process with his facial expression and voice.

Seryu giggled. "Was it that bad?"

"The training is hard and sometimes stupidly insane, like when Pops threw me off a cliff along with a bee hive. Stupid Pops. You can't climb faster than a bee can fly!"

~o~

A black and white panda sneezed. He rubbed his nose with his paw before he continued on his way through the palace's hallway.

Two maids stood a little distance off, watching the panda dressed in the finest of robes strut along with a big brown sack. The sack made an occasional clinking sound, as if there were a bunch of jewelry shuffling about inside.

"That…that must be some noble's pet."

"Indeed…"

The panda, spotting the two, reached one of his paws behind his back and pulled out a sign that read: "Good afternoon, ladies."

The two maids merely stared as the sign seemed to disappear behind the panda's back and the spotted animal continued on its way.

~o~

Seryu laughed. "That sounds rough, but it made you into the warrior of justice that you are today."

"I guess," Ranma said noncommittally. "Though, you're really hung up on justice, aren't you? Not saying anything bad about that. I knew some people that were just crazy about some stuff. Like my friend, Ukyo, was all about Okonomiyaki."

"Okonomiyaki?"

"It's like a grilled pancake with a bunch of different toppings on it."

"Sounds strange."

"Don't diss it 'til you try it. It's actually really good," Ranma said. "I'll make you some later. I'm not as good as Ukyo, but I can sorta make a decent one. Anyways, you like justice a lot because your old man always talks about it?"

"That's one of the reasons. My father always told me that, but I never really got into it until after one of those evil people killed him."

Ranma looked uncomfortable and rubbed the back of her head unconsciously. "Sorry 'bout bringing up bad memories."

"No, it's okay. I want to talk about it," Seryu said. "It's one of the last things he left me with."

"Tell me about it while we walk. We still got to finish the patrol."

"You're right. Justice doesn't wait!"

~o~

To tell the truth, most of what Seryu talked about flew over her head. Not that much of it seemed important, at least not to Ranma. What she got out of the conversation was probably just that the younger girl's ideal seemed to revolve around a black and white picture of justice. Though, was that really justice? She couldn't really tell. She always imagined that justice was a big courtroom with lawyers yelling back and forth about evidence. It didn't quite seem as clear-cut as Seryu was making it out to be.

Well, that was fine. The girl's idea basically came down to: friends are friends and enemies are enemies. Simple, right?

Ranma thought so too.

The red-haired pigtailed girl looked up at the evening's sky. The sun was starting to dip behind the buildings, though there was still plenty of illumination coming from the lamps and the windows of the stores around them. Some of the shops were starting to close up for the day as their staff began their journey home. Yet, even on those tired faces, there was an despairing edge to it that she couldn't help but notice. It made her uncomfortable looking at their faces for too long.

"I'm gonna get some hot water so I can change back."

"Change back?"

"Yeah, this is my cursed form. I'm actually a guy."

"You mean that rumor was true?"

"Just wait here." Ranma went into a nearby café. After a couple of minutes, there was a loud shout and the sound of glass breaking. Seryu looked down at Koro and the biological Teigu looked back up at her. It was a couple of more minutes before Ranma walked back out, her hair dishevel while her left eye was twitching. In her hand was a cup of steaming hot water. At Seryu's curious stare, Ranma averted her eyes. "Don't ask."

Ranma promptly splashed herself with the hot water, cringing a bit at the heat. Even after all this time of being splashed with boiling water, you would think that she would get used to it, but no, it was still as scalding as ever. The magic of her curse started molding her body in the instant that the liquid touched her skin. By the time that it was dripping down her—his body, everything about him had changed. His hair had become black while his bodily structure enlarged to accompany his now distinctly masculine form and his chest shrank.

Seryu's mouth dropped open and even Koro tilted its head curiously as it sniffed him. The Teigu user, unable to fully believe it, pressed her hand against his chest and squeezed. Instead of the soft firmness of breasts, all she felt was pectoral muscle.

"They're really gone."

Ranma nodded.

"Is this a Teigu?"

"No, it's a curse."

"A cursed Teigu?"

"…no, just a curse."

"A curse caused by a Teigu?"

"It has nothing to do with Teigu!"

"Ah." Seryu squeezed his chest again. "They're really gone."

"You're repeating yourself now." Ranma gently pried her hand away from his chest.

Seryu looked down at Koro. The biological Teigu patted Ranma on his shin and chirped happily. Well, that was good enough for her.

"Okay, Ranma, let's get going."

"…you accepted it that fast? Don't want to splash me or anything?"

"Why? You want to go back to being female?" When Ranma shook his head, Seryu tilted her head questioningly. "Then it's fine, isn't it?"

"Oh. Okay. Good then." That definitely wasn't the answer he thought he would hear.

"Then let's go. Evil becomes more active at night." Seryu started walking again with Koro with Ranma taking a moment to get out of his stupor before following. By this time, the sun had already fallen completely behind the horizon. Any last visages of light were only those that came from the lamps and torches that were being lit. As they walked through the streets, going into the richer sections of the capital where there were more European style buildings, Seryu began a lecture.

"There are four known members of Night Raid. First is Akame." Seryu pulled out a wanted poster from somewhere inside her uniform, showing the drawn portrait of the black haired, red-eyed assassin. It wasn't a colored portrait, but she made sure to point out certain features and name off the colors. "A former assassin for the Empire, she defected to the Revolutionary Army with a Teigu called Murasame. You have to make sure not to get a single scratch from the sword. It has a curse in it that will cause you to die within a few seconds."

"So basically, it's a deadly poison."

"There isn't a cure so be very, very careful. Along with her swordsmanship, that makes her the most dangerous one."

"Okay, gotcha," Ranma said as they walked through the streets. The crowd was starting to thin out.

"Next is Bulat. He's a former soldier of the Imperial Military." Seryu stuffed the previous poster into her clothes and pulled out Bulat's picture. It was a picture of a good looking man with straight black hair and a high collar. He looked like the kind that often worked at those clubs in Nerima. "He is proficient in the use of a spear and wears the Teigu, Incursio. It's a full-body armor that protects him and makes him stronger. We're not sure what else it does."

"Eh. He doesn't look so tough."

"He was once called 'One Hundred Man-Slayer Bulat'."

"He really did kill one hundred people?" Ranma frowned as he asked that.

"It was during the skirmish in the South."

"I see." It left a bad taste on his mouth, but a war was justified, not like the murders that Bulat was committing now.

"The third one is Sheele. I heard she's a good fighter, but there's not much known about her. She wields Ecstasy, a giant scissor-like Teigu. It can cut through anything." She showed the poster of a purple-haired woman with glasses over her violet eyes. She replaced that picture with another, showing a white-haired woman with an eye-patch. "And that is the last one we know about. Najenda, a former general. She's strong. Still, she doesn't have a Teigu so it's probably nothing to worry about."

"You shouldn't underestimate her before you see her in action," Ranma said with a smirk. "People always underestimate me before I kick their asses."

"Ranma, be careful. A Teigu user can only be defeated by another Teigu user." Worry appeared on her face. "If things go bad, run away. I'll make sure those evil people don't catch you. After all, the Emperor would be sad if you—"

Ranma grabbed both of her cheeks and stretched them.

Tears came to the corner of her eyes as Seryu squirmed. Even Koro started growling menacingly.

"Don't worry about me. Ain't nobody gonna beat me when it counts." Ranma released her cheeks. Seryu crouched down, her hands over her pained cheeks. "Besides, if worst comes to worst, I always have the final attack of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts. It's a move that turns certain defeat into a draw."

"Oh, a trump card? I have one too!"

"Oh? What do you got?"

"I have guns implanted in my body."

"Wait, what?"

Seryu opened her mouth wide and barrel of a magnum appeared from the back of her throat. Ranma cringed as he stepped back, even as the justice-obsessed girl brought the gun back down into her throat. She raised her arms happily, blissfully unaware of Ranma's sudden cautiousness.

"I have two machine guns in my arms, but if I use them, they'll ruin my arms. Though, Dr. Stylish said he'd just make me new ones."

"Uh, yeah, let's just keep them as…trump cards for now."

"Okay!"

Following the path, they had entered into a large park that consisted of numerous trees and a fountain as well as several benches. Along the way, they had passed by more than a few Imperial Guard members who waved at them as well as a number of Imperial Guards who actually went out of their way to get some distance from them. He wasn't quite sure if it was from him or Seryu as there was a mixed bag of stares. In the end, it wasn't a matter worth thinking about.

After all, there was that smell in the air. It was the scent of freshly spilled blood, carried on the wind. Koro started jumping up and down.

"What is it, Koro? Are you hungry?"

"Get ready, Seryu." The smell was getting stronger. "They're coming."

Seryu didn't need to be told twice. A manic grin appeared on her lips. She took out her two tonfa-like guns, holding her fingers steady on the triggers.

"There." Ranma pointed. Running across the grass were two figures, partially melded into the shadows. Despite that, the lamps quickly illuminated their features. It was a woman and a girl. The first was carrying a large scissor while the latter was holding onto a long rifle. It was obvious who the scissor carrier was. Ranma and Seryuu exchanged a single glance before they began to move.

Koro jumped onto Seryuu's shoulder as she rushed forward, her guns raised. She fired several bullets at the younger girl with the rifle, but at the last moment, the little girl leaped backwards.

Ranma split off and took the path around, intercepting them from behind. He reached the woman with the scissors and lashed out with a punch. However, the woman opened the scissors, forcing him to pull back his arm just as the blades of the scissor snapped close. He dashed backwards to gain some distance.

They were at a stand-off.

"I knew it. Sheele of Night Raid." Seryu raised her guns threateningly as Koro jumped off her shoulder. At Seryu's words, Ranma's eyes sharpened. "I won't let you evil-doers escape!"

"Both of you aren't targets," Sheele said, raising her giant scissors. "But if you stand in our way…"

"It wouldn't feel right to let murderers get away," Ranma replied. He was standing casually with his hands at his side, but that was deceptive in and of itself. It was a stance that made him look vulnerable when he actually wasn't. There were obvious and vulnerable holes in his defenses, but that was the bait; by opening up easy paths for the opponent to take, it made it easy for Ranma to know where they were going to attack from. Not to mention, it aggravated people and made them underestimate him.

"If you already knew who we are and still came here anyways…" Mine raised her rifle, pulling back the side handle. "That must mean you're prepared, right?"

"Prepared? You evil villains should be the one prepared for your fate! For my father who fell in the line of duty to evil like you, and my beloved teacher who was murdered by you and your cohorts, I will deliver justice!" Seryu's eyes were strained wide open and his lips were curved in an ugly grimace filled with rage and hatred.

"Uh, as much as I like pre-battle banter." Ranma rubbed the back of his pigtail. "Can we get onto the fight already? I don't want to be here all night."

"That's right." Mine swung her rifle towards Seryu and fired off a few shots. "The first to strike has the advantage!"

"Seryu!" Ranma was about to charge forward to intercept, even though he knew he couldn't reach there in time, but Sheele was front of him in that instant, her scissors openly gaping with its separated blades. He gritted his teeth angrily.

The reason Mine aimed at Seryu was because of one fact: the Imperial Guard was weaker than the pigtailed man who was able to dodge Sheele's scissor blades. It was only natural to take out the weaker opponent first and then focus fire on the stronger one.

As the bullets zeroed in on Seryu, she merely smiled. Koro ran in front of her and exponentially grew in size like a balloon. The energy bullets stabbed into the giant creature's belly, but it failed to penetrate.

"A biological type Teigu…"

Sheele had only turned her head slightly for a moment to glance at Koro, but in that instant, Ranma flowed under her guard and was upon Mine. He lashed out with a vicious rising kick, knocking the rifle's aim upward before slamming both of his palms into Mine's chest. The girl cried as she was sent flying back, barely holding onto her rifle.

"Mine!" Sheele brought her scissors around, but the giant biological Teigu closed in on her.

"Koro, bite her to pieces!" The giant Teigu was only too happy to comply as it leaped at Sheele, its gaping maw wide open and filled with two rows of sharp teeth.

Sheele met its charge and snapped the two blades of her scissors closed, cutting through the beast horizontally right now the middle. The two sides of the creature fell behind her in a bloody mess. However, her relief was short-lived. She quickly brought up her closed scissors, blocking a spin kick in its track. Her feet skidded slightly along the dirt, her arms wincing from the hard impact. Ranma pulled back his leg with a grin. She swiped with her teigu, but Ranma hopped back on the other foot.

Sheele narrowed her eyes. She rushed forward, stabbing the tip of her giant scissors forward. Ranma leaned to the side as the blades sheered through the space he was previously in. He continued to dance around as she continued her effort to stab him through, but each time, he simply moved out of the way within centimeters of the bladed tip.

From across the way, Seryu advanced on the unconscious Mine. Koro was still regenerating from being cut in half, but she was trained enough that she could deal with the younger assassin herself.

"How unsightly, but that's to be expected, right? That's the true appearance of evil, after all." Seryu brought her tonfa-like guns to bear on her fallen opponent and pulled the triggers. Her finger pressing and depressing the triggers as bullets flew out of the barrels, one after the other.

However, Mine was already sitting up, her rifle locked onto the Imperial Guard. The corners of her mouth began to curve as she felt her heart racing at the sight of the oncoming swarm of bullets. She transferred that feeling straight into Pumpkin.

"Gotcha." With a victorious smile, Mine pulled the trigger on her rifle. A blast of spiritual energy poured out of the barrel, condensing into a wide beam that flew straight for her target, incinerating all the bullets in its path.

Seryu barely had time to react. It was only from the training she had gotten from Captain Ogre that she managed to leap out of the way. However, the fingers of her left hand weren't as lucky as it was caught in the beam, the spiritual energy literally sheering them off as well as destroying the tonfa-like gun that she had been holding. She fell onto the ground with a scream.

Mine only paid the girl a single pitying thought before she raised her rifle to finish the Imperial Guard off. Just as she was about to press the trigger, Seryu rolled onto her back and raised her fingerless hand toward her, as if reaching for her. Blood continued to pour of those fingerless stumps. There was a grotesque expression of hatred on Seryu's face.

"I'll never let evil win!" From within that arm, the sound of submachine gunfire erupted as the front half of the arm shook violently and exploded into a spray of blood and chunks. A dozen bullets came out of the arm, visible by the red streaks they left in the air. With a shout of surprise, Mine barely fell back to the ground in time just as the spray of bullets streaked dangerously close overhead.

From her position on the ground, Mine returned fire. She didn't have sight on her opponent, but she didn't need it; she was a genius sniper. A series of shots were aimed at Seryu's last spot from the moment before as well as every position she could be predicted to move to.

Fear never entered Seryu's eyes for a moment, even before Koro stepped in front of her, absorbing the burst of retaliatory gunfire from Mine into its massive body. With her one good arm, she raised herself to her feet. Out of the bloody stump of an arm, a submachine gun was peaking out, covered in her blood. Her face was one of agony, disappointment, and utter determination. In front of her, Koro had fully regenerated itself from the latest burst. It looked forlornly at Seryu's destroyed arm before it turned its attention on Mine and bared its teeth.

From the other side, the gunfire had caught Ranma's attention. What happened next made his face pale. He had played around too long. Slipping by Sheele's latest attempt to stab him, he performed a standing spin kick far too fast for her to block and slammed his heel into the side of her face. Her glasses broke apart as she was sent flying through the air. She crashed into the ground hard, rolling for a few feet before stabbing her scissors into the ground to stop her momentum. Slowly and unsteadily, the purple-haired woman rose to her feet, using the scissor as a cane.

Ranma was over by Seryu's side the moment he had knocked Sheele aside.

"Seryu, your arm…"

"It's fine." Seryu spared him a pained smile. "Dr. Stylish can fix it up. And besides, it's not bleeding."

Ranma blinked. It had stopped bleeding despite nothing covering the wound. "I remember you mentioned something about him being able to give you a new—"

He tilted his head, avoiding a blast of spiritual energy by mere centimeters. He gave Koro an annoyed look, but the monstrous Teigu simply ignored him. Well, now that he thought about it, he couldn't really expect the dog to help him. He turned to his adversaries.

"That's the best you got?" Ranma wanted to give them a cocky grin, but after seeing Seryu's stump, he really wasn't in the mood to. It was time to end this. He began to walk towards the new Night Raid members. Likewise, Seryu closed in with her guns as Koro followed protectively.

"Oh right, I almost forgot," Seryu said as she holstered the gun in her remaining hand and took out a whistle. She blew into it, causing a loud shriek to fill the air. It wouldn't be long before reinforcements arrived.

Sheele and Mine exchanged a look. They were out of time. No matter who won this battle, the Imperial Guards would here soon which would end in their loss either way. They had to end this and escape quickly.

"Mine, you have to escape and report this."

"Sheele?" Mine shook her head. "I'm not leaving without you. We can beat them."

"One of them, maybe, but not both. They'll have reinforcements arriving soon, too."

"Please, Sheele."

"No, we can't outrun him." Sheele had seen his speed for herself. To get under her defenses in only a moment's distraction meant that his speed was on the level of a top Imperial Fist master. That made him far more dangerous than her partner realized. It was up to her to provide the distraction. "And you aren't suited for close-ranged combat."

"Isn't there another way?"

"There's none." Sheele readied her scissors. "When I say go, run."

Mine reluctantly nodded with unshed tears in her eyes. She wanted desperately to argue, but she couldn't think of any other plan that could work.

"Go." Sheele rushed forward, snapping open her scissors and unleashing its secret skill. "Ecstacy!"

A bright light flared from the scissors, blinding everyone in the vicinity. In that moment, she was upon Ranma. The blades of the scissors were on either side of the martial artist's waist. Ranma pressed his hands down on both blades and pushed himself off his feet. With no hesitation at all, Sheele snapped the blades closed.

Sheele blinked. There was no blood. Ranma was doing a handstand on top of her blades. Even upside down, he was grinning.

"You almost got me there." His legs fell down like a hammer onto the top of her head. Her vision went white. Her grip fell slack as her body drifted backwards a couple of steps. She struggled to stay on her feet, even as she lost her weapon. Ranma ended that struggle with a punch to her solar plexus that sent her into unconsciousness.

"Villains never listen. I already told her that evil will never get away." Seryu was staring off into the distance where the fleeing form of Mine could be seen. The Night Raid member was out of the effective range of most of her guns. All except for one. She opened her mouth as the barrel of the magnum peeked out of her throat. Without sparing even a second, she trusted her aim and fired.

Ranma's arm lashed out in a blur, catching the bullet in his hand.

"No killing," Ranma said sternly, letting the bullet drop out of his palm.

"What're you doing?!" Seryu practically yelled it. "She's going to get away!"

"No, she won't. I got her." Ranma was off in a flash, running full speed across the field.

~o~

Even as she ran, Mine was crying. Useless, useless, useless! All she could do was…run…?

The sound of rapid footsteps made her glance back just in time to see the advancing form of Ranma. Fear and terror coursed through her. What about Sheele?!

There could only be one conclusion.

She slammed her foot into the ground, skidding to a stop. There was no way she was going to be able to outrun him—not that she wanted to. Her fury was reaching its boiling point even as tears flowed down her cheeks. She brought Pumpkin to bear on the charging martial artist.

She opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to cry, yet all of those sounds were overridden by a single one. The burst of spiritual energy exploded from end of her rifle, enlarging to twice her size as it left the barrel. The spirit energy streaked across the park, but it wasn't a single shot; it was a concentrated beam that was continuously fed spirit energy from her raging emotions.

"Whoa!" Ranma evaded to the side, barely dodging the blast, but Mine dragged the beam to chase him. He rolled to avoid an overhead swipe and then side-flipped to dodge a lower sweep as the beam followed and zig-zagged on him to try to slice him in half.

"I'll kill you!" Mine raged as her frustration built up. The landscape had turned into a smoldering ruin of its former glory, but she didn't care. She swung the rifle with reckless abandon, dragging the devastating beam along the ground and digging deep trenches into them. Yet, for all her aiming, she was just a second behind the blur that was Ranma.

"You ain't the first to try!" The voice had come from in front of her. Ranma was already upon her. He elbowed the rifle, knocking it off course and smashed his fist into the girl's cheek. The blow shook her brain, shorting out the rifle's beam. A chop to her wrist made her release her weapon, and Ranma was quick to yank the rifle out of her grip and throw it away.

Mine crumpled to her knees from the pain, shock, and unrelenting frustration. She wailed as she pounded her small fists against the dirt. Why was she so useless?!

Ranma was going to continue that fight, but now he felt awkward. He rubbed the back of his head as he stared at the sight. He was never that good around crying girls, no matter if they were ninjas, mercenaries, or crazy assassins.

"Look. It's not your fault. I'm just way too—" He leaped backwards, barely avoiding the sharp tip of a katana. Landing lightly of his feet, he got into a proper fighting stance.

Across from him was a black-haired girl with red eyes. It wasn't hard to figure out who it was. Akame.

The girl in question readied her katana. There was no hesitation in her sharpened eyes, and there were no words to be said. Ranma gritted his teeth. If he had been any less than the martial artist he was, he would have gotten nicked by that surprise attack. That would have been fatal, considering her Teigu.

Ranma was confident that he could beat her, but definitely not without a scratch, especially on the first engagement. If he could fully watch her fight, at least once or twice, then it wouldn't be a problem. However, right now, her fighting style was a mystery, and what was unknown would undoubtedly be far more difficult than usual. Even Kuno managed to hurt him a bit when they first fought.

This was a fight for another day.

Without looking back, Ranma ran into the tree line and vanished into the dark shadows, using Umisenken to erase his presence. It was a bit unnecessary, though; neither of his opponents made any move to follow him.

~o~

"We've to go rescue Sheele!" Tatsumi stood in front of the rest of the Night Raid members in front of their base, hidden in the cliffside.

"It's impossible. If we could've done it, we would have already." Najenda sighed. "There're many warriors and generals sympathetic to our cause in that prison. Headquarters had been trying to find a way to break into it for years."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try!" Tatsumi raised his voice even higher.

"We're assassins. We knew what we were getting into when we joined, Tatsumi," Bulat said. "That we could die at any time and no one would raise a finger."

Mine cried bitter tears as her grip on Pumpkin tightened. She wanted desperately to vow revenge, to kill that pigtailed man who captured Sheele, but she was afraid. Terrified. He was like a demon, unrelenting and unstoppable. In her memories, all she could see was the eyes filled with unsuppressed glee and that manic grin that never disappeared from his face the whole time.

Her hands shook.

"Are you really just going to stay here while Sheele is tortured or worse?!" At Tatsumi's words, Bulat smashed his fist against the boy's cheek, sending him sprawling.

"Stop acting like a child, Tatsumi. Running straight into their trap unprepared will just increase our losses. Didn't you listen to Mine's story? Sheele is a genius at fighting, but she lost in a straight fight. We don't have the manpower to break into the prison and defeat them on their own turf."

Tatsumi gritted his teeth in frustration and tightened his fist. Najenda turned to Akame.

"How good was he, Akame?"

"On the level of a Rakshasa demon."

Najenda's eyes narrowed. That definitely wasn't what she wanted or expected to hear.

"What fighting style did he have? Imperial fist?"

"Unknown. His slanted eyes showed that he inherited traits from the Eastern islands."

"Someone from the Eastern islands, huh. At that skill level, he should be well-known over there." Najenda tapped a contemplating finger against her chin. "I'll send a request back to headquarters and to the other teams for more information on this new fighter."

Najenda straightened and sent each of them a meaning glance.

"From here on out, we'll do reconnaissance and information gathering. Assassination requests will be put on hold for the time being. Tatsumi, Leone, I want you two to go into town and collect information on these new fighters and about Sheele. Lubbock, you are to observe the prison. If you're seen, run. Do not engage," Najenda said. "They're starting to bring in stronger and stronger fighters to deal with us. That includes the new Teigu user that Mine and Sheele fought. This means that many more chances to collect more Teigu will come, but it will also mean greater danger for us, as well. It's not going to be as easy as it was before, but every Teigu we take from them will be one more for the Revolutionary Army, bringing us one step closer to the invasion. That means that there is a chance we may die a month, a week, or even just an hour from now. This is where we'll make our mark on the world.

"This is the start of our life or death struggle."

~o~

"Lubbock." The man in question stopped in the hallway of the Night Raid base and glanced behind him. It was Najenda.

"Huh? You came to declare your love for me?"

"No, it's about your mission," Najenda said without missing a step. "Sheele won't talk. But if you manage to get sight of her…"

"I'll end her suffering." Lubbock's face turned serious. "I'll take one of the rifles. A bullet made out of my threads should be able to reach her even from that distance. She'll only feel a moment of pain before my thread wraps around and cuts her heart or brain to pieces."

"Thank you."

~o~

"Buono, buono!" The bulky Prime Minister clapped his hands together in praise. "You've performed splendidly. To think that you've not only defeated a Night Raid member, but also captured her alive! It's almost too fantastic to be reality."

"While I don't approve of you putting yourself in these situations," the Emperor said from his throne. "You've done an admirable job."

"It's not like it was hard." Ranma rubbed the back of his head, though there was a cheery expression on his face.

"Not hard? Many have tried to do the same but ended up in an early grave," Honest said. "And not only did you defeat them, you kept her alive. That's a magnificent feat. It shouldn't be long before we find out the location of Night Raid's base from her. For that, you deserve a reward."

"Ah, I don't need anything like that."

"No, I insist. I'll show you a gift that will last a lifetime."

Ranma nodded, but he didn't really look that enthusiastic about it. It didn't really sound like something he needed.

"And what about that spar with General Budo?"

"Ah yes, the General. I'll talk with him and arrange it. How does a couple of weeks from now sound?"

~o~

For Ranma, it had been a pretty good day. He had met some new people, got into a serious fight, and won with his hands behind his back. Well, not _that_ easily; there were a couple of close calls, but he figured it wasn't worth mentioning. Still, it made his adrenaline rush through his body. That felt pretty good, especially with how boring it had been of late.

He had changed out of his clothing for a simple white tank top and black shorts. It was pretty simple wear for sleep clothes, but it wasn't like he needed anything fancy. Even with his everyday silk red shirts and black kung fu pants, he had merely asked for them to be reproduced. Now, he had a closet full of the exact same clothes, supposedly all made by the best couturier in the capital. Not that he knew what a "couturier" was.

Ranma walked past the two bodyguards stationed outside the Emperor's bedroom and went in. The two guards didn't even blink. That was because Ranma had been sleeping in this room a while now, ever since Makoto moved all his possessions into here. It pissed him off at first, but in the end, he eventually got used to it. It wasn't like it was really any different than normal. Well, actually, there were some differences. Makoto often wanted to play some games before they went to sleep each night. There were board games, card games, guessing games, tag, pillow tossing, and a bunch of other random games. It felt kinda childish at first, but they were actually pretty fun. He never got to do things like that much, even when he was attending school.

Inside, Makoto had already changed out of his royal outfit for a much simpler, though no less glamorous, sleeping pajamas. He stood up from his seat on the royal bed, which was actually really, really soft. To Ranma, it was like sleeping on a marshmallow each night.

"Ranma, you're late! I've been waiting for awhile now."

"Just had to grab a bite to eat. It was pretty late when we were done with the debriefing."

"I could've just ordered food to be delivered here," Makoto said while pouting.

"Oh! I'll do that next time," Ranma laughingly said. That would be pretty convenient, honestly. "So what game do you want to play tonight?"

"Actually, His Majesty is allowing me to show you both a new game as reward for defeating Night Raid."

Ranma turned his head to the voice. His eyes widened when he realized that the Prime Minister was sitting at a table at the far side of the huge room. How he managed to not detect the fat man eating beef jerky this whole time was something that he was not ready to think about. He was going to file that away in the little spot in his mind occupied by the question of how Nabiki always managed to take photos of him without him noticing.

On the other hand, Makoto looked positively excited. Honest rose from his seat and walked over, finishing off his jerky in one last bite.

"Now then, it's a very fun game that you can always play throughout your whole life. Some people have even gotten obsessed about it, but I'm sure you two will be fine." Honest smiled cheerfully. "To start off, while this game can be played with strangers, it is best played with two very close friends. Can I assume you both are close?"

"Of course we are!" Makoto turned to Ranma with star-struck eyes.

Ranma didn't have the heart to refute him.

"Good, good." The Prime Minister's smile widened as he held out a glass of water. "This game is best played, however, with the opposite gender."

Ranma stared at him questioningly. "Why can't I stay male?"

"That would be…too advanced for you right now."

Makoto turned slightly watering eyes to Ranma. "Please, Ranma, please?"

Ranma sighed. "This better be as fun as you say."

For all of his grumbling, Ranma took the glass and splashed himself in the face. The water dripped down his—her face. She made sure that water didn't get on her clothes; sleeping with wet clothes was pretty uncomfortable. Wiping her face with her hand, she looked up at the Prime Minister expectantly.

"The next step is to take off all of your clothes—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ranma glared at Honest. "That's not a game. That's just perverted!"

"It is a game. This is not something perverted," Honest said exasperatedly. He had already gathered how much Makoto and Ranma knew on the subject so he was quite confident in what he was doing. "Do you trust me? Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Please, Ranma. The Prime Minister is always right." The complete lack of suspicion in Makoto's voice frayed at Ranma's conscious. Maybe he was right. Ranma turned to look at Honest.

"It's not perverted?"

"Not at all." There was no hesitation in the Prime Minister's voice and that smile never wavered. After a moment, Ranma finally nodded her consent.

"Okay, fine. What do we do after?" Ranma asked as she began pulling off her clothes. Makoto was quick to do the same. The Prime Minister's eyes glimmered with amusement.

"Well, after that, you both will need to…"

~o~

The morning's sun began to rise on the horizon, shining its bright rays of light down on the courtyard where Ranma and Makoto were doing their morning routine. The two bodyguards were standing off to the far side.

"Last night's game was pretty fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was more fun than I thought it'd be," Ranma replied as he went the motions of his kata, though at a slower pace for Makoto's benefit. The young Emperor was actually getting a little bit better as he moved slowly through the many moves of the kata. He would probably never as good as Ranma was at his age, but it was better than nothing. "Not as fun as a good fight, but it was pretty close."

"Do you want to play again tonight?"

"Sure. I don't see why not."


	5. Chapter 5

Inside a dark room, a single ceiling bulb was shining down on the center of the room, but even then, it could barely hold off the encroaching darkness that spread from all sides. Amidst this dim illumination, two men clad in black leather uniforms stood in front of a woman strapped down to a chair of solid steel

"Has she given us the location of Night Raid's headquarters yet?"

"No, sir. We tried everything short of breaking her mind. If this was anybody other than a Night Raid member, I would think she wouldn't know."

"That's a powerful will she has."

"I'm not sure that's simply her willpower, sir. What we can make out from her mumbling is fragmented. I'm not sure she's sane in the first place."

"Is that so? In any case, it's out of your hands now."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Dr. Stylish has been granted permission from the Prime Minister to take the prisoner off of our hands."

"But this is _my_ prisoner!"

"Not anymore. You've had your chance, but there have been no results. I'll accept no further discussion on this topic. Am I clear?"

"...as you command, sir."

"Dr. Stylish says he wants all the body parts, including the severed ones. Do you still have her breasts?"

"I'm sorry, sir. We already fed them to her."

"Just as well. Stop the torture and bring her up to health. Dr. Stylish wants her in good condition for his experimentations. Though, I assume he'll be displeased if she dies in transport as well. It won't look good for you if that happens."

"Yes, sir. We'll prepare her to the best of our abilities."

"I would expect no less."

~o~

In the main dining room of Night Raid's base, every member of the team was gathered there. There was no food out on the table, but they all sat with their attention focused solely on their leader. Najenda, for her part, was sitting at the end of the table, skimming through a small stack of papers.

Only the sound of shuffling papers could be heard, but no one broke the silence. There was a tension in the air as she set down the stack and looked up at everyone, a frown etched on her face.

"Headquarters and the other teams have gotten back to us about our request. It seems we have an insider in the prison, but for security reasons, I'm not going to say any more about that." Tatsumi and Mine twitched at the news. Najenda ignored them and continued. "Sheele is alive."

There was no shout of happiness or any kind of jovial cheer. They all knew what that meant.

"How is she?" Mine asked in a small voice.

"She's keeping her silence, and she hasn't broken despite all the torture they're putting her through."

"That's…that's good, isn't it?" Tatsumi felt a little bit of hope.

"No." Bulat shook his head. "It just means they're not using the more intensive methods. Though, it might be better if she broke. At least then, she wouldn't be feeling all the pain."

"Don't say that," Akame sternly said.

"It won't matter in a couple of weeks. There's some news that she'll be transferred into the care of Dr. Stylish." Najenda spread out a hand-drawn map. "Lubbock gathered information on the area around the prison as well as the routes that could be taken. Once we find out more information, we'll make concrete plans to intercept the convoy."

"So we're going to rescue Sheele?!" Tatsumi perked up.

"It's not a guarantee. This is probably a trap, but it's one we can't afford to ignore. That means some of their most powerful hitters will be there. We can assume Ranma will be there too."

The atmosphere turned a bit darker. Tatsumi glanced at Mine. The girl in question was holding onto her rifle tightly, but he could see—looking closely—that she was shaking. She was trying to hide it, yet none of them were fooled.

"Let's pool and review our information. Leone, Tatsumi." Najenda gave the two an apologetic look. "I know you just arrived back here after spending the entire week in town, but we need to know right now. What do you have on Ranma?"

"Ranma Saotome is the name of both siblings, one male and one female, who are living in the palace with their father, Genma Saotome," Leone said. "Though there's a rumor going around that the siblings are actually the same person. It sounds unbelievable, but the rumor is really widespread."

"The reports from headquarters said it as well. Cold water changes him into a female while hot water changes her back into a male. It's strange, but no less strange than a Teigu. With how many actually believe it, there is a good chance of it being true. Continue, Leone."

"Well, everyone knows that Ranma is engaged to the Emperor. At least, the female side is." Leone scratched her cheek. "He also took out Zank the Beheader, so he's very strong even without a Teigu."

"We can't discount the possibility that he has a Teigu on him."

Tatsumi decided to speak up. "There's something weird about him."

"Weird?" Najenda questioned.

"We saw him on the streets a few times. The first time I saw him, I got so angry for what he did to Sheele. The thing is…" Tatsumi trailed off, swallowing a bit before he continued. "He noticed."

The entire table looked startled. Even Najenda's eyes widened.

"He came over to talk with us, and I started panicking."

"Don't worry. It didn't end bad," Leone said. "I just said that Tatsumi was my little brother. We talked a bit, and he left after that. But yeah, that's not the end."

Tatsumi looked hesitant, but he still spoke. "After that, we tried spying on him several times, but he always found us. In the alleyway, through a window, or even on the rooftop, it didn't matter. He always found us no matter what. And he would sneak up on us from behind. But every time he found us, all he would do is just talk and then leave, like it's an everyday thing."

"What did he talk about?" Najenda asked.

Leone decided to speak up here. "Things about the town, the weather. Just useless chatter. Not really about anything. He did ask about us so I just made something up. He seemed like he accepted it."

"He didn't really seem that bad." Tatsumi looked lost.

"Some don't," Najenda said. "It doesn't mean they're good people."

"I know, but…" Tatsumi sighed in frustration. "There is just something about him. All of this doesn't make sense."

"He is employed by the Prime Minister, so don't mistake him for anything other than an enemy." Najenda gazed at Tatsumi. "He is a pawn to keep the Emperor under the Prime Minister's thrall and to enforce Empire's power."

"Personally, I'd put him as a bishop," Lubbock remarked.

"In any case, we need to find out more about him. For that, there's an opportunity," Najenda said. "There will be a tournament in the capital in a few days. The main attraction is a public match between Ranma and Grand General Budo."

"Grand General Budo?" Bulat's expression turned incredulous. "Isn't the Grand General against the Prime Minister's actions?"

"Most citizens don't know that. It'll be a showcase of power that'll put most of the citizenry in line. They'll be too afraid to get involved with the Revolutionary army after watching that display. This will cut into our power base, but there's nothing we can do about it." Najenda placed her palm on the table. "However, this is also an opportunity. Security will be lax due to the amount of spectators, and we'll be able to study how Ranma and Grand General Budo fight. This information will be a boon to the Revolutionary army.

"More than that, the Emperor and the Prime Minister are guaranteed to be at the tournament. This may be our chance to eliminate the Prime Minister. This is a suicide objective, pure and simple. If you can't take out the Prime Minister in one blow, then don't take the shot. You'll be killed far too fast to make a difference, and we'll lose both a friend and a Teigu."

Najenda gave each of them a stern stare.

"Remember, the mission of Night Raid is to weaken the Empire and strengthen the Revolutionary Army. If a Teigu is lost to the Empire, then they will get stronger while we will get weaker. That is unacceptable, so I'll tell you this now: I'm making a new rule specifically for this mission.

"Rule number one: don't die unless you are guaranteed to take the Prime Minister with you to hell."

~o~

Ranma took a look around the packed coliseum. The crowd was cheering wildly as two fighters in the center stage were fighting with all their might. It was much bigger than he thought it was going to be. They certainly made a grand spectacle of it.

Out of his spar, that is. It turned out that the Prime Minister decided to make it into a grand event. Whether it was to display his power or to make a profit off him, he didn't know. He didn't really care, though. In his book, Honest had done enough that he deserved it. The guy helped him and Pops out a lot ever since they first arrived.

As it was, Ranma was standing in a private box along with the Emperor, the Prime Minister, his father, and a bunch of attendants and soldiers. Probably some of them were generals—they certainly moved like it—but he didn't really pay too much attention to that. The combatants in the ring were finally coming down to the last leg.

"Prime Minister, do you think we'll really find anyone worthwhile here?" The Emperor was lounging in a throne-like chair that was obviously an imitation of his usual one.

"Fufufufu. These are the best that came out of the preliminary tournaments," Honest said as he took a bite of a pastry. "Every one of them came here for your Majesty's consideration. Some to join our army at a high rank, while others are just in it for the money. There's even a few from our own military who are aiming for a promotion, men with skill who could not rise by themselves because of a hostile superior or bad circumstances. You shouldn't destroy their expectations."

"They're nowhere close to Ranma's skill," Makoto said plainly.

"Few are." Honest smiled. "You've to make the most of what you can get."

"I see." Makoto watched the fight thoughtfully. "You're right as always, Prime Minister."

~o~

Tatsumi sat in the audience seating, watching the fights going on inside the ring. It wasn't terribly exciting, but then again, it was simply an appetizer for the main course. He took a look around the audience. Lubbock and Leone were seated somewhere around here as well. Bulat and Akame were sitting in some other seats far from them, having snuck in with disguises. Najenda wasn't able to, because she stood out too much with her eye patch and mechanical arm. As for Mine, she was stationed on the highest clock tower that overlooked the stadium, but that was a long shot at best from that position.

Mine was in a much safer position than everyone else, but there were some doubts whether she would be able to gather enough spiritual energy to make a shot from that far away. With that in mind, she did say she was confident she would be able do it once she sees the Prime Minister in the flesh. Tatsumi knew, however, that for a clear shot, the Prime Minister would need to get out of the private box. The angle also limited her view.

It was a high-tension and heart-pounding situation. They all had a chance to make the biggest difference in the war. The Prime Minister was behind the corruption, and if he were to die, then the war would practically be over. There was no doubt that he was the lynchpin holding everything together. Without him, the Revolutionary army would be able to gain control of the capital within a month of the invasion, maybe even without bloodshed. It would save a lot of lives.

They had each made the resolution to give their lives for the war. However, they were restrained by Najenda's rule to only attack if it was a killing blow.

From across the coliseum, Bulat stared down at his hand and flexed his fingers. If it wasn't for that rule, he would probably be charging down at the private box this instant. It was suicidal, but he had no illusion that he would survive the war. If he could take out the Prime Minister and end the war, it would be more than worth it. In fact, even if the attempt failed, he would still die with no regrets. Yet, Najenda's words stayed his hand. He would wait for a clear shot.

They were separated from each other, and there was no way to communicate, especially not with the amount of noise the crowd was giving off. To use any signal was to risk getting caught, so they were each acting independently. That meant that whoever got that clear shot first would be the only one to take it.

They each desperately hoped that the other wouldn't take the shot. If someone had to die, then they wished only for their own death. That was the resolution that each of them made in their hearts as their fingers twitched and their eyes sharpened.

Like lions waiting for prey, there would be no mercy given this day.

~o~

"Ranma."

The pigtailed martial artist glanced back. Genma was staring at him from the private box.

"Don't disappoint me, boy."

"Like you can do any better." Ranma scoffed. However, he understood the sentiment. He nodded. His father nodded back. Without any further delays, Ranma walk to the edge and leaped over it. He landed on the hard dirt of the ring with barely a sound.

The crowd cheered wildly as Grand General Budo walked onto the field of battle from the gated entrance on the other side of the ring. He was an older man with a permanently stern look. Armor covered his massive body and two pauldrons were positioned over his shoulders. A cloak flowed from underneath those shoulder guards, hiding his arms and back beneath. The way he walked spoke of decades of experience and harsh battles. Confidence and overwhelming pressure leaked out of his every step.

Too bad Ranma was just as confident, if not more so. He analyzed the movements of the Grand General as he stood in a casual stance, his hands in the pockets of his pants. Once Budo reached the appropriate distance, he stopped and gave his opponent a once over.

"Are you taking me lightly?" Budo's stern gaze was upon Ranma, but he could not feel any panic or any killing intent. It was as if his opponent was simply a bystander, a spectator on the sidelines.

"Nah, I'm ready when you are." Ranma took his hands out of his pockets.

"Fool. If you hold anything back, you will die."

"Don't worry. I don't plan to lose." Ranma grinned. "You better not hold anything back either, old man."

"Brat, using a Teigu against one who does not have one is too much. I will not stain my pride with that."

"You shouldn't worry about that. I can handle everything you got."

"Then prove your words to me, and I will take you seriously," Budo said. "But for now, I will not use my Teigu, Adrammelec."

"Have it your way, but don't come crying to me when I kick your ass."

No more words were said as the referee raised his hand. The audience quieted down as he held it up, letting the anticipation and excitement build for a moment. He promptly swung his hand down.

"Match begin!"

Budo was in front of Ranma in that instant, his fist racing across the distance like a torpedo. However, Ranma was already in motion as well. He grabbed the top of the speeding fist and leapfrogged over it before swinging his legs and slamming the soles of both of his slippers into Budo's face.

Just like that, they both backed off and separated from each other. They were both re-evaluating the other. The opening sequence was more of a test run for the both of them.

"I thought your lack of killing intent would be a hindrance for you. I was wrong." Throughout the whole initial attack, there was not a hint of killing intent. There was a battle aura, but that was nowhere close to the presence that a murderous aura could provide. Even his own was sharpened almost to the point of a blade, yet the youth across from him wasn't noticeably affected.

"Willing to use your Teigu now, old man?"

"Not even close, brat." Budo circled his opponent, his hands held at ready. Ranma mirrored his adversary, each step in the spiral bringing them closer and closer. Anticipation and excitement raged through their bodies. Numerous openings were exposed, and when those baits were not taken, they were closed while more were opened up. For every real opening, there were dozens of fake ones shown with the fangs hidden just beneath sight. It was a high risk, high reward play. It emphasized finding that one real opening and hitting it with a massive blow. If any of the traps were sprung, it could lead to a devastating counter attack.

Though, Ranma was a bit faster than that. He took a step forward and initiated.

"Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire!" Ranma's fists blurred as hundreds of punches rained down on the Grand General. Every single opening, real and fake, were hit with at least a couple dozen punches each. Budo took a step back, but the attack was unrelenting.

"Enough!" Budo swung both his armored arms outward, forcing Ranma to leap back to avoid taking a hit. The Grand General spat at the ground to the side. Countless punches had invaded his defenses, so many that he couldn't defend against them all. Yet, for all their numbers, they were lacking in strength. At least, not enough to make him truly feel pain. He advanced on the pigtailed martial artist.

"Haven't had enough yet?" Ranma taunted, though the General advanced as if he hadn't heard it at all. For all his insults and flippant attitude, he hadn't been able to get a rise out of Budo yet. That put one of his strongest moves, the Hiryu Shoten Ha, out of commission. Still, there were ways to—

Ranma barely raised his arms and leapt off his feet before a powerful punch crashed into his guard. His bracers strained under the immense pressure of the blow and started cracking at the edges. The force of the punch sent him sailing through the air. He landed a small distance away, his feet skidding along the ground to halt his backward momentum. He shook his arms to get the blood flowing through them again.

Ranma stared warily at his opponent. If he hadn't rolled with that punch, it would have been enough to fracture the bones in his arms. The guy was not as strong as Ryoga, but unlike pig boy, he was able to focus all his available strength into a single focal point with nearly pinpoint accuracy. For someone with such a massive body, Budo was pretty precise. He supposed that he would have to let loose a bit more.

On the other side, Budo was thinking the same thing. They both rushed at each other, but this time, instead of a single engagement, they went into a full-out brawl. Punches and kicks flew far and wide. Some were to test defenses while others were to break open those defenses. Many more moves were made to block, parry, or defend. Budo's storm of fists, while not as fast as Ranma's, were strong, concentrated, and utterly relentless.

Ranma was forced to use his hands to tap the sides of the incoming fists to redirect them off-course and dance around the kicks. However, for every punch that Budo threw, Ranma retaliated with ten more. Each of these punches and kicks, while lacking the concentrated strength of Budo's attacks, focused on only a few points on Budo's body, ramming into those locations hundreds of times. Every time the bigger man moved to defend one spot, he attacked another.

However, Budo's skin and defenses were tough. He weathered through the rain of blows like a tank. The armor also limited the number of vital locations that Ranma could attack, allowing the Grand General to predict the destination of the stronger techniques and block them with an armored forearm. They both knew one thing.

The other was holding back.

Yet their pride wouldn't let them escalate, not until the other did so first. Still, this was fine for both of them. This pitted the core foundation of their martial arts styles against each other.

Budo's style was that of cannon-like speed, defenses like a fortress, and an unyielding strength, all tempered by his extensive battle experience and the wisdom of a victor of hundreds of battlefields, both large and small. Each blow carried behind it the will of his soldiers, the thousands that had died in his service, and the thousands more that would in the future.

Ranma's style was fast and furious, yet extremely accurate. Each of his attacks snaked through the immense defenses to find weak points to exploit. However, it wasn't a single style. His stance and his techniques changed to match the conditions of the battle, often flowing from one style to the next within mere seconds. It wasn't a matched set; techniques from different styles were used while in stances of unrelated styles, making it nearly impossible to predict the martial artist's next action. It kept his opponent off-guard and brutally rewarded that confusion with a dozen strikes.

Nevertheless, his hits were not doing very much to the older man. Despite striking the same points over and over hundreds of times, Budo showed no sign of yielding. Whether it was from his massive constitution or his unending willpower, Ranma didn't know. What he did know was that he was starting to tire. He relied heavily on a lot of body movements to both evade and attack, so he was using a lot more energy than his opponent.

Perhaps that style was created through the wisdom of extended warfare, something Ranma never really needed to contend with. His fights were always rather short and to the point. Yet, this fight felt like a marathon. A marathon that Budo seemed used to.

At this rate, he was really going to lose.

"Like I'd accept that!" Ranma dropped to the ground, his palms pressed against the dirt in a hand stand. His feet shot straight up and into Budo's chin. The older man grunted as the force lifted him up into the air. It was only a few feet into the air, but that was fine. That was all he needed. He leapt into the air to meet the older man, unleashing a chaotic tornado of blows.

Without the ground for stability and support, Budo was unable to effectively put up a defense. Any retaliatory attack he threw lacked the strength afforded by having his feet firmly on the ground.

Ranma didn't allow this advantage to slip. He attacked relentlessly and used several moves to keep the General suspended in mid-air. It was obvious that Budo never learned how to deal with this kind of aerial onslaught. His win was in the bag—gah!

An aura of lightning sprouted into existence, blowing Ranma away as the electricity coursed through his body. He hit the ground roughly, rolling for a few feet as his muscles were afflicted with spasms.

Budo landed on his feet, looking a little worse for wear but otherwise fine. He began a slow walk toward his opponent who was frantically trying to get up.

Ranma gritted his teeth and pushed himself up even as his entire body screamed at him. Still, he stood unsteadily on his feet even as the remnant shocks made him convulse uncontrollably. There was a fire in his eyes as he pushed his muscles to assume a proper stance.

"To make me use Adrammelec is something I thought impossible for a youth like you." There was respect in his eyes as he stared down at the struggling martial artist.

"It's not…over yet…"

"Know your limits, brat. You will find that wisdom comes with experience," Budo said. "Still, to know that the next generation serving the Empire is so strong is a comfort to me."

Ranma was slowly regaining control of his body as the electricity left him. Still, the damage that it had left behind made it nearly impossible to keep fighting Budo on even grounds. For the first time, he felt animosity towards the Teigu.

"Come serve me in the Imperial Guard. Your strength is needed for the betterment of the Empire."

"Now, now, Grand General Budo. It isn't polite to recruit someone I've already hired." Both fighters turned their faces to see Prime Minister Honest walk out onto the field. "That was a splendid fight, especially for you, Ranma."

Reaching the center of the ring, the Prime Minister raised his hand and voice.

"The winner is Grand General Budo!"

The crowd that was completely silent, having been enraptured by the fight, suddenly exploded into massive applauds and cheers. It was near deafening to Ranma who was standing at the center of it all. He looked up and stared.

~o~

This was it. Bulat rose to his feet, ready to pounce into the ring and throw his spear at the Prime Minister. With both fighters so close to the Prime Minister, he only had one shot at it, and that was far from guaranteed. Still, this was the best chance he was ever going to get.

However, just before he was able to, a thin beam of concentrated spiritual energy streaked across the distance from outside the coliseum.

"Mine!" It was too late. She had taken the first and only shot at it.

~o~

Ranma felt it before he saw it. It was a stream of fast moving ki, powered by anger. It had so much anger that it felt like Ryoga doing his Shin Shishi Hokodan, except with hatred instead of depression powering it. Furthermore, he recognized it. Before he knew it, he was forming ball of pure confidence between his hands.

"Moko Takabisha!" He threw the ki blast forward. It streaked the distance across and intercepted the beam before it could hit the Prime Minister. The two ki blasts mixed for a moment before they exploded. The force of the explosion of ki was enough to throw Honest off his feet, but Ranma was quick to catch him.

If the crowd was loud before, it was pure pandemonium now. Imperial Guard members were pointing at a faraway clock tower as they shouted at each other, their teams beginning to mobilize on the distant threat. Even Grand General Budo was shouting, an angry expression on his face.

Ranma lowered the Prime Minister to his feet.

"It seems I owe you again, Ranma." Honest laughed jovially as if his life hadn't been in danger just a few moments ago.

~o~

"Don't let the assassin get away!" A team of Imperial Guards were running through an alleyway.

Akame dropped into the midst of them from the rooftops. With a couple of wide arcs of her blade, the bodies of the guards fell down lifelessly. She swung the sword one more time, flicking the accumulated blood off before sheathing it.

A few moments later, Mine ran into the alleyway, clutching Pumpkin tightly to her chest.

"Akame, you're here!"

"There's no time. Quickly, follow me."

~o~

"So the assassins got away." There was no hint of a jovial expression on the Prime Minister's face as he stared down at his attendant. The woman was frightfully shaking as she spoke.

"Y-yes, Prime Minister." She gulped audibly and clumsily turned the page on the report. "The perpetrators were Mine and Akame from Night Raid."

"Night Raid again. Those pests have been a thorn in my side, but to make an attempt on _my_ life? This matter is aggravating." Honest took a handful of mashed potatoes into his palm and stuffed it into his mouth, neither relishing nor tasting it at all. "When is Esdeath arriving?"

"In a f-few days, Prime Minister."

"Good, good."


	6. Chapter 6

Inside his office, the Prime Minister was staring at a man from across his desk. The man in question wore his full military uniform along with the helmet, though he carried no weapons with him. He neither shook in fear nor relaxed in comfort; he merely stood there in silence, solemnly maintaining a salute.

"Report."

"At seven o'clock in the morning, prisoner Sheele was escorted from the prison and loaded onto the carriage. At seven-thirty, Night Raid ambushed the convoy on the route to Dr. Stylish's laboratory."

"The escort team?"

"Wiped out."

"And the ambush team?"

"Wiped out."

Honest sighed. He supposed that it really was impossible to defeat Teigu users with normal soldiers, even if the advantages were stacked against them. With the Saotomes and the Rakshasa Demons, it may have been possible, but without them, the results were clear. Perhaps if they had more firepower, it could be possible, but it would take time. After all, the non-augmented soldiers of the First Emperor did defeat those high ranked Danger Beasts to create the Teigu in the first place.

"And the tracking team?"

"Wiped out."

"They were all wiped out?!" He slammed his palm on his desk. The objective had never been to defeat them; it was to track them to their base in order to take them all out in one fell swoop. "You incompetents!"

"I'm sorry, sir. The team gave chase as ordered, but Night Raid left behind razor wire traps. They were not able to avoid them in time."

Honest held in his frustration. "Survivors?"

"Only the observation team."

Honest frowned. However, it wasn't a total loss. "And anything significant?"

"In the attack, three new members of Night Raid were discovered."

"I want their faces on posters by tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, sir, but they were not able to get a clear view of their faces." Seeing the venomous look on the Prime Minister's face, he was quick to add one more part. "We only know that it's two males and one female."

Honest let out a frustrated growl. All of his efforts had been wasted.

Should he have brought Esdeath and her team into the plan?

No, they had more important duties at the moment. He needed the former Prime Minister exterminated to consolidate his power. That man was under the patronage of Grand General Budo so a false charge and execution would no doubt be unadvisable. No, he needed an assassination that would frame Night Raid at the same time.

Besides, it wasn't really that bad of a loss. For all his achievements, Dr. Stylish wouldn't have been able to force the girl to give up the information on Night Raid's base. They had practically ruined her anyways; the girl would never fight again.

~o~

"I want to fight."

Tatsumi looked up from his seat in the carriage. Across from him, leaning on Mine, was Sheele. She was covered in a black cloak, but her face was much thinner and paler than before. There were bandages on her cheeks and forehead that were stained red. She was looking at him, staring without her glasses.

"I want to fight." Sheele repeated it again.

Tatsumi didn't have the heart or will to answer it. They had covered Sheele's ruined body with a cloak, but it didn't dispel the image that he had first seen.

Not receiving an answer, Sheele turned to Mine.

"I want to fight."

"Maybe…maybe they can get you something like what Najenda has." Mine looked over at Tatsumi for help. "Just a couple of prosthetics, and she should be able to, right?"

"Mine…" Tatsumi began slowly, feeling his mouth go dry. "You didn't see. It's more than just a couple."

Mine fell silent and lowered her eyes.

Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes, but Tatsumi refused to let them go. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, bowing his head forward so that it would be harder to see. His hands were on his lap, but they were clawing into his skin through his pants as he tried to hold his emotions in. Why did it have to be like this?

"I want to fight."

~o~

The snow crunched under their slippers as Ranma and Genma trekked through the snowy wilderness. Their breaths came out frosty in the cold, but they weren't feeling the temperature at all as they continued their march.

"What are we doing here, boy?"

"Like I told you before, old man. Budo wanted us to do him a favor."

"And why do we have to bother?"

"Didn't you learn anything from Nerima, Pops? Whenever I owe a favor to Nabiki, it always gets her out of trouble and me into it."

"And what kind of trouble can he get us out of?"

"Well, I don't know. We're always getting into trouble anyways. If we can't handle it, we could just use him."

"That does sound reasonable, boy."

Truthfully, the only reason that Ranma wanted the favor was to able to get a rematch after he finds out a way to beat that Teigu thing of his.

"Yeah, so quit your whining, old man." Ranma stepped out from the treeline. "Besides, we're here. I can see the carriage just up ahead—oh."

The carriage was certainly on the road that was made from clearing the snow. The problem was that they had stumbled onto a something of a situation. The snow was dyed red with blood. There were half a dozen dead corpses, their bodies having been sliced in half. The only survivor was a teenage girl on her knees, holding her stomach to stop the bleeding.

Standing over her were three individuals who were all wearing the same uniform of a stylized tuxedo. A mustached butler, a massive lumberjack with a bloodied axe, and a middle school girl.

Oh wait, that was a boy.

Ranma and Genma glanced at each other for only a second before they sprang into action. Flinging off their packs, they rushed across the snow, their feet blurring.

~o~

_Death. Am I going to die here?_

Her name was Spear, a name given to her by her father when she was born. It was to symbolize the fact that he wanted her to lead the way. Where? She always thought that it was to a bright future. Some people named their children after such ideals after all. Like Hope. Hope was a good name.

_I don't want to die. I don't want to die._

She was raised like a princess. It wasn't surprising though; she was the daughter of the Prime Minister. At least, he was Prime Minister at the time. Not anymore though, not since the previous Emperor died. Prime Minister Chouri. He was very much loved by the people. She loved him as well, as only a daughter could.

_I hold my hands against the cut. If I didn't, my intestines would fall out._

Brought to the temple of the Imperial Fist at a young age, the experience forged her body and soul. Normally, daughters like her weren't subjected to such harsh training, but her father wanted her to be strong. Only those strong of mind, heart, and body could lead the way.

_The little boy is pressing the knife against my cheek. The edge is sharp._

The chaos of succession. The Emperor's sudden death left a void that his sons and daughter sought to fill. There were fights and assassinations. Everyone wanted the support of Prime Minister Chouri, for endorsement meant legitimacy with the people. The public would support whoever her father chose. Except that they didn't want to be caught in the battle for succession. That was why they had to escape to the north.

_It's digging in. It hurts._

The new child emperor was a puppet. The new Prime Minister was cruel. The people suffered and begged for him to intervene. Her father was kind-hearted and possessed a strong will. He couldn't stand back while the people of the Empire suffered. So he came back, even knowing that the world he was coming back to would be immensely hostile. He still came back.

_It hurts. It hurts!_

She supported him. She came with him. And she protected him. It was the right decision to make. It was correct decision to make. Yet, in spite of that, fate seemed to have crueler plans. Her mind had already accepted this ruthless outcome, but her heart screamed out against it.

It cried out about all of her regrets.

Because she _truly_ did not want to die.

_Help me. Please…help me…_

"It's okay to cry and scream, you know," Nyau said cheerfully as he curved the imbedded knife to start peeling the skin of her cheek. "Nobody can save you n—OW!"

A foot crashed into the little boy's face, his surprise and pain evident on his face as he rocketed across the snow. Nyau bounced across the snow like a thrown stone skipping over the surface of a pond. By the time that he rolled to a stop, he was already unconscious.

A cut had slashed across her cheek when the knife exited, forcefully dragged by the suddenly airborne Nyau. However, Spear couldn't even spare the effort to stop the bleed, as she had her hands full keeping her intestines in. She looked up and saw a pigtailed boy—who was around the same age as her—standing in front of her with a worry look on his face.

"You okay?" Ranma asked, a second before he smacked his forehead. "Of course you aren't. Stupid question. Look, stay here, okay? I'll help you after I'm done dealing with them. Just don't move around too much or you'll make it worse."

Ranma didn't bother to wait for her answer before he turned to the two remaining killers.

Daidara and Liver had been approaching the carriage when Nyau's cry of pain caught their attention. Now, they were watching the new arrival warily. Liver's eyes narrowed.

"Daidara."

"On it." Daidara separated his double-edge axe into two axes and threw them at Ranma. They spiraled through the air as they homed in on Ranma. These two axes were part of the same Teigu known as Belvaac. Once thrown, these axes pursued their target endlessly and relentlessly. There was no possibility of escape, because it had the power to chase their target even for years and to the end of the world if necessary.

As they zoomed in on their target, Ranma merely tilted his head left and then right, stretching those joints in his neck. Just a few moments before they could slice into him, he lashed out his hands like a cobra and snatched both weapons out of the sky. He lifted them experimentally, staring curiously at the design even as the two killers across from him stared at him with expressions of disbelief.

"Not as heavy as Ryoga's umbrella." The moment he said that, a sense of vertigo overtook him. Ranma could feel the weapon's ki start to invade his own with a malicious intent. He didn't want to have to deal with this. "These things are annoying. You can have them back."

Ranma reared back his arms and threw them back towards Daidara. They spiraled through the air in arcs, homing in on their new target.

"Oh shit!" Daidara practically vanished from the spot he stood as he ran with all his might. The two axes slowly gained on him as he disappeared into the nearby winter forest and out of sight.

Ranma scratched his head. Well, he certainly didn't expect that. He didn't even quite understand what it meant. Oh, well. He shrugged his shoulders.

"You do your old man proud, boy." Genma appeared besides Ranma.

"What the? Where the hell were you, Pops? I just did everything here," Ranma said. "You were even right beside me when we ran in!"

"Minor details, boy. You've to look at the big picture."

"Minor my ass."

"Be quiet, boy. It's time to show you what a master of the Saotome branch can do," Genma said in an uncharacteristically serious voice.

"Pops…?"

Genma ignored him and pointed his finger over to their last remaining opponent: the mustached butler.

"You call yourselves men? All three of you were ganging on a weak, little girl," Genma taunted.

"Hey!" Said weak little girl was looking positively riotous, even as she clutched at her wound.

Liver raised his hands to assume a battle stance. If the boy was this strong, then the older would be even stronger. "It doesn't matter that she's a weak—"

"Hey, I'm right here!"

"—little girl. Our orders are absolute."

"I'm not weak," Spear muttered in a low voice. "It's just that you're all stupidly strong."

"Yeah, well, I don't like this killing thing," Ranma said. "Even if this wasn't our business, I'd kick your asses anyway."

"Stay out of this, Ranma. This is your old man's fight."

Liver and Genma closed in on each other in a calm walk, their bodies tense. They each scanned the other for openings. There would be no timer. The first to make even a twitch would start the fierce battle. Just then, Genma took a step back as his eyes widened.

"Look! It's a giant snake with muscular arms and forty claws!" Genma pointed to somewhere behind Liver with a fearful expression on his face.

"What? A danger beast here?!" Liver spun around. There was nothing behind him. Realization hit him immediately. He turned around as quickly as possible. "You cowardly—"

Genma's fist slammed his right temple with a power of a freight train. He had packed as much ki into his fist as possible. The sheer power of the blow spun Liver's entire body several revolutions before he hit the ground, out like a light. Genma stood triumphantly over his opponent.

"See that, boy? That's how you defeat an assassin."

"Forty claws, Pops?" Ranma was just looking at the scene with a look of incredulousness. "And when do snakes have arms?"

"Shut up, boy. I'd like to see you come up with something better on the spot."

"I can do better."

"Prove it. What'd you say right now?"

"A bear shark."

"How is that any better?!"

The two Saotomes continued to argue as Spear watched the scene with a scene of disbelief. It was so surreal. Or that could just be from the blood loss. No, she didn't think she was bleeding that much. From the carriage, her father opened the door and rushed out to her, carrying a satchel. It was their emergency satchel that held bandages and tools like a sewing kit.

"Spear, are you hurt?!"

"Father, it might be a bit bad."

"Spear!" The former Prime Minister rushed over and crouched down on the ground beside her. He took a look at the wounds with a pained grimace. "We must bandage the wound on your abdomen first. Keep holding it down like that while I apply the antibiotic salve and wrap bandages around you."

As her father went to work, Spear's gaze inevitable went back to their saviors. The two men were still arguing, though it seemed to have evolved into something different.

"Boy, I'm telling you, they were the greatest rice, fish, and pickles to have ever been made! Even you'd have said the same had you tasted it! I can't forget it even now."

"Pops, you're just stupid. How can it be the greatest thing? It's just the kind you could probably get if you got enough money like Kuno or Takamiya. They probably eat it every day."

"No, boy, I've tasted the rice, fish, and pickles that your friend, Kuno, had. They were no good."

"He ain't my friend. Get it right, old man."

"Your rival then."

"He wasn't that either!"

Spear stared at them incredulously. Rice and pickles? How did they even arrive on this topic?

"Lift your arms, Spear."

Spear raised her arms. A moment later, her brain caught up with her. Her intestines were going to fall out! Her head snapped downward, but she found that her wound had already been bandaged. It was a long strip of white bandages that wrapped around your abdomen and back. It was already starting to become stained with red, but it was holding. Chouri finished wrapping the last of the bandages around the upper portion of the wound.

"All done." Her father put a sticky square bandage on her cheek.

A loud scream snapped all of their attention to the forest. Daidara burst out of the tree line, his clothes ripped and shredded on more places than Ranma could count on his fingers. There was a half-dazed look on his face as he ran with all his might as if his life depended on it. Which it did. Out of the tree line, the two axes came spiraling out, shredding through any trees in the way. A couple of trees at the edge of the forest fell, sliced horizontally through the center.

Daidara dropped flat to the ground as the axes whirled overhead, missing him by mere inches. When they came back for another try, he jumped back to his feet and hopped over the axes. He resumed his running as the twin axes began to make a U-turn.

Ranma stared blankly at the scene for a moment before it hit him. He punched his palm as he finally made the connection.

"Oh, that must be a Teigu." No wonder its ki tried to invade his. He had heard that they made those weapons out of danger beasts so it wasn't too surprising that it even had ki. Legendary weapons tended to be like that.

Just as Daidara was about to run past Ranma, the pigtailed martial artist stuck out his foot and tripped him. The older man was sent sprawling to the ground, struggling and failing to get up due to his exhaustion. When the two axes came by, Ranma merely snatched them out of the air as if it was nothing but child's play. He carelessly dropped the axes, letting it stab into the ground. He didn't want to have to deal with that weird ki again.

Even though it was a Teigu, as long as it was wielded as a normal weapon, he could deal with it. Really, when you got down to it, it was just a couple of heavy throwing axes, nothing like that cheating stuff that Budo had. Seriously, how were you supposed to dodge something like that? It was like trying to avoid Soun's demon head aura from point blank.

The moment Daidara heard and saw the axes fall to the ground, he collapsed completely. His burning lungs desperately sucked in air as the adrenaline left him, leaving his muscles sore and stiff. He knew he should get up and fight, but he also knew he had already lost anyways. That being the case, he couldn't really find the will to stand up.

Genma stomped on his head.

"Pops, you didn't have to do that." Ranma nudged the now unconscious man with the edge of his slipper.

"Haven't you learned anything, boy? Do you not remember the self-destruct implants?"

Ranma frowned as the memory came to the forefront. That hadn't been a good time. They barely managed to keep ahead of the explosion, though that explosion-propelled blown-off leg that hit him in the back of the head while he was running almost made him trip.

While he was reminiscing—against his will—the former Prime Minister made his way to the two Saotomes. He bowed his head to his saviors.

"Thank you for saving me and my daughter. Without your help, we would have died."

Ranma scratched the side of his head. He wasn't really good at these kind of things.

"It's fine. You don't really have to bow your head or nothing. Budo asked us to come escort you anyways," Ranma said a second before he seemed to realize something. "You're Chouri, right?"

"That's correct." The former Prime Minister processed his words. "You mean Grand General Budo sent you?"

"Yeah, as a favor."

"That's… that's excellent news!" Chouri turned to his daughter with a big smile on his face. "Isn't that great, Spear? Grand General Budo didn't forget about us."

"Yes, it is, father." Spear returned the smile, though it was strained with pain. She started to stand. "We should—ah."

"Spear!" Chouri ran forward and caught his daughter as she fell unconscious. Leaning in, he could hear that her breath was coming fast and shallow. He laid the back of his hand against her forehead. "A high fever? But I cleaned the wound correct. Infection would only show signs after at least a couple of hours."

Genma walked over and took a look.

"Her ki is weak," Genma said with a frown as he continued to examine the girl. "She has been sick for at least a couple of days."

"I didn't notice." Chouri's frown deepened. During the journey, Spear had shown no sign of it, but he knew how strong his daughter was. She probably hid it, knowing that he would have delayed the journey until she rested enough.

"The girl won't last the night out here. We need to take her to the city."

"But that's at least a three day walk!"

Genma ignored him as he turned to Ranma. "Boy, you take the girl. I'll take the father."

Ranma smirked. "I thought you'd want to carry her since she weighs less."

"You've the harder job, boy. You need to make the ride smooth while keeping up. If it gets too bumpy, her wounds will open up."

"Are you listening to me? There's no way to get to the capital in time. We need to try to bring down the fever—wait!"

Ranma picked up Spear in a bridal style while Genma put Chouri onto his shoulder like a sack of rice. While ignoring Chouri's protests and subsequent screaming, they started running across the snow at a speed faster than what even a beast-drawn carriage could do.

~o~

Nyau stumbled to his feet. His cheek ached badly, and he was sure that he lost a tooth or two. He couldn't really tell from the globs of blood he spat out onto the snow. Not only that, he had a headache that was the size of a mountain. When you had a small body like he did, that meant that he had a really, really big headache. He was sure that it wouldn't have affected Daidara much because he was big and dumb.

He walked unsteadily over the snow, his feet sinking in unevenly. It made it difficult to keep balance, but he somehow managed it after a few close stumbles. He spotted the carriage and the dead guards, but what really surprised him were the unconscious bodies of his two teammates. Just what happened?

Not that he really wanted to admit it, but they were stronger than him. That fact, however, didn't really put him off much. He was still young and had plenty of time to grow. They, on the other hand, were old fogeys whose skill levels were set in stone now. They would be fossils in comparison to his strength when he got older.

He took a quick look around, but he didn't see anybody. Whoever knocked them out was long gone, as evident by the fading footprints. It still probably would be possible to track them, but he had desire to fight whoever beat these two. He held his hand to his throbbing cheek. Probably the same people who knocked him out.

"Get up." Nyau kicked Daidara. When the older man didn't wake, he kicked him again. And again. And four more times just to be sure. A couple more for eating his flan a couple of days ago. Three more for that time the older man clogged up the toilet when he really needed to go. Four more for that time when…

By the time that Nyau was thoroughly convinced that Daidara was not going to wake up, the older man was pretty much black and blue on almost every exposed part of his skin. Normally, that would be hard to cover up, but he would just have to blame it on whoever beat them up by saying that he found him like this.

He walked over to Liver this time, but instead of kicking him, he crouched next to the downed man and gently shook him.

"Wake up, Liver." He shook him lightly a couple more times, but he saw no response at all. He was out cold as well. He sighed as he got up.

It looked like it was up to him to keep them from catching hypothermia. He needed to drag them into the carriage. Nyau wasn't strong like them, but Liver wouldn't be as much of a problem as Daidara. Daidara probably weighed a ton.

Well, Liver was first priority. He would get to Daidara when he had to. After all, wasn't there a saying that idiots don't catch colds?

~o~

That was certainly a fast ride. Uncomfortable, but fast. Chouri's hair and clothes were disheveled, but he didn't care as he stared down at his daughter, sleeping on the old bed with the blanket tucked up to her neck. A wet towel was on her forehead while a doctor was sitting besides the bed, checking her condition. According to him, she was going to be okay.

Looking out a nearby window, he saw children playing a game outside with a ball. They were in the old estate that he used to own in the capital. During their time in the northern regions of the Empire, Chouri had rented out the mansion to friends of the family when the taxes were getting harsher to deal with. He certainly wasn't going to evict them now that he was back, but it would probably be a good idea to vet them to make sure they were not a danger to him or his daughter. Corruption was wide-spread in the capital, after all.

It had been a long time since he was last here, but he was sure one of Grand General Budo's men could do the vetting process for him. He also wanted to reward his saviors, but they had left soon after they found the doctor for Spear. Just as well, he could always find them later by asking the Grand General.

For now, he needed to ensure their safety before he entered the political arena once more. With Prime Minister Honest at the head, it was sure to be a dangerous prospect.

~o~

Makoto stared at Ranma with an annoyed expression when the pigtailed teenager nonchalantly walked into the throne room. He had told every servant in the castle to inform the martial artist to come to him immediately upon his return.

"Ranma, you weren't here last night. Where were you?" Even though one of the maids had told him that Ranma was going to be out that night, he still waited up in the hopes that he would appear. He had lasted for a couple of hours after his usual bedtime before he fell asleep.

"Out saving people."

"Oh." The Emperor didn't look pleased at the response, but at least it wasn't that bad. He didn't quite know what he had been expecting that made him agitated so he couldn't exactly complain when he didn't have a concrete reason to. That fact made him feel more than a bit confused. "Did you have fun?"

Ranma looked thoughtful for a second before he nodded.

"Yeah."

~o~

The Prime Minister scooped a piece of the giant flan with his spoon, moving the instrument easily through the soft body. After getting a large enough bite, he ate the creamy flan with a relish. Food was the method of enjoyment and comfort for him these days. It was especially helpful now, when he had learned of something quite stressful. Indeed, it was something he planned to rectify, but first, he had to make sure everything was organized within his own household.

A knock came to the door of his office. It was one he had been expecting that for a little while now.

"Sir, Ranma Saotome has come, per your order." The voice that came from beyond the door belonged to his personal bodyguard, one of his loyal men.

"Let him in."

There was the sound of footsteps before the door opened, and in walked the young Eastern prodigy who had made waves since his arrival in the capital. It was well known by now that pigtailed martial artist was in his camp and under his employ, so the very public match against Grand General Budo had done much to quell the rebellious nature of the people. Not to mention that the young teenager had saved his life. He supposed that he should feel indebted, but he didn't.

That didn't mean Ranma wasn't quite useful. He was. Tremendously, in fact. Both as a fighter and as a source of amusement. There were some aspects of the young man that would need to be changed, but Honest was motivated enough to set it in motion.

"Ranma, it's good that you came promptly." Honest displayed his signature smile as he motioned for the martial artist to take a seat. Ranma obliged and sat in a seat in front of the desk without any hesitation.

"Makoto wanted to see me too, earlier."

"I'd assume so. I've heard that you and your father have been busy," Honest said. It was subtle needling to draw out the topic.

"Yeah, Budo asked for a favor. He wanted us to escort an old man named Chouri and his daughter, so that took awhile," Ranma said straightforwardly, so much so that Honest's expression broke for a moment.

Oh right, this was Ranma. How stupid of him to think that there was any need to be subtle. The teenager couldn't tell a lie even if his life depended on it. The martial artist could keep his silence, yes, but tell a lie or even hide one with wordplay? That would be the day he stopped eating flan.

Honest's eyes looked down at his partially eaten flan. Actually, that last promise was now invalidated. It had, after all, been made on a spur of the moment before rational and logical thought processes took over. He took another bite of his flan before looking back up at Ranma.

"I'd have to ask you to refrain from associating with Grand General Budo in the future."

Ranma blinked. "Why?"

"We're in rival political camps." Seeing Ranma's confused look, Honest elaborated. "Factions, groups, associations. We've different agendas and objectives concerning certain issues. Former Prime Minister Chouri is one of those issues."

"What do you mean?"

"The former Prime Minister is known to associate with rebellious elements. The Grand General allows his presence in spite of that knowledge. No, more like ignoring it and pretending that it's simply just rumors. Chouri has only one objective in coming to the capital: to support the Revolutionary army through behind-the-scenes actions." It was a complete lie. Chouri hated the rebellion just as much as Budo, but that was the thing about fake conspiracies. It was hard to expose a conspiracy, but it was far harder to expose the truth about a fake conspiracy.

Ranma just looked confused.

"It's simple, Ranma. He's planning to hinder the Emperor's political actions while convincing generals to defect to the Revolutionary army. The information he leaks to the rebellion has drastic consequences for the lives of many in this nation."

"So…what does this have to do with me?"

"You and your father stopped his assassination. An assassination I ordered."

"Wait, _you_ sent those guys?!"

"Calm down, Ranma. I'll explain." Honest moved his hands in a lowering motion as he retained his smile. "When the Revolutionary army assassinates and steals the soldiers of the Empire, I'm obligated to do the same to them.

"You may not think that is a righteous action to take, but I'm not a strong enough man to be able to fight fire with anything else besides fire. If I calm them with words, they'll keep killing my soldiers with impunity. If I defeat them and let them live, they'll come back and kill instead of giving my men any mercy. It is a war of attrition. That is the nature of this world we live in.

"You were able to defeat that Night Raid member without killing, but that was because you're strong. I'm not that strong. Not many are as strong as you. That's why this is the only path available to us," Honest said sternly. "The Revolutionary army will not stop. Do you know why?"

Ranma slowly shook his head.

"It's all to weaken the empire. Once our strength has been sapped and theirs has grown enough, they will mobilize their army. When that happens, a real war will begin, one where only one side may survive. If this war begins, tens of thousands will perish. Many men, women, and children will die." The Prime Minister stared straight into Ranma's eyes, causing the younger to flinch under the intensity. "Ranma, you are one of my many trump cards to prevent that."

"Me?"

"Weakening the Revolutionary army will prevent this civil war from starting. Time will force their make-shift army to collapse upon itself. You've proven yourself as one who can stop the war and save the lives of thousands of citizens. That's why it's important that you should know where your loyalties lie." Honest leaned back in his chair as his speech wrapped up. "I'll not forbid you from seeing the former Prime Minister and his daughter, but be wary of their lies. The reason I ordered their assassination was to prevent this war. I'm not asking you to forgive me; I'm simply asking you to understand.

"They kill my people, and I kill theirs. There is no good and honest side to this. If someone were to kill your father, how would you react? Would you simply defeat them and let them go?"

Ranma tensed and shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"What would you do, Ranma? Please, tell me." Honest's face seemed to soften as he waited patiently for the young man's answer.

"…I don't know."

Honest smiled apologetically.

"Ranma, I know this is hard for you. This isn't your country, but I'm still asking for your aid. That's because your power is needed."

"Why me?"

"If not you, who else?"

Ranma went silent.

The Prime Minister was silent as well as he ate his flan, purposely chewing through each bite thoroughly. The only sound other than his eating was the noise of the staff and the nobles' children outside the window. By the time that he had finished his flan and set his spoon down, his patience with the silence was at an end.

"If you need more time to think about it or if you want to talk with your father, that's fine as well."

"Yeah, I need to think about this. I'll need to talk it over with Pops too." Everything about this conversation was rubbing him the wrong way, and he wasn't quite sure if that was what he was supposed to be feeling. All he knew was that he needed to get out of there. "Can I go?"

"Very well," Honest reluctantly said. "You may leave."

Ranma did just that, but before he left the room he glanced back. Honest was watching him with an unflinching stare that. He quickly turned back and walked through the exit. There was something cold about the stare that—if he was willing to admit it to himself—unnerved him.

Left alone inside the room, Prime Minister Honest continued to stare at the closed door. Things were not going as he liked, and he noticed that his illusion was starting to fray at the edges. He would have liked more time to get the Saotomes deeper, to make them slowly but surely commit enough that they couldn't possibly back out. However, plans tended to fall apart eventually.

It was time to push up the schedule.

Still, he had back-up plans that he already put into motion. One such plan was Ranma's frequent nights with Makoto. That, unfortunately, had not yielded results yet. Still, it was only a matter of time. That would certainly put Ranma out of commission for awhile, but what was nine months in comparison to a lifetime of servitude? Besides, Genma would pick up the slack in the meantime.

The candles flickered out. In the dark, Honest folded his hands in front of him, his eyes unwavering in its focus on the closed door.

As long as they become committed to the fate of the Empire before they find out the truth, they would be tied to his cause. Once that occurs, he could break the triangle stalemate between his faction, Budo's bloc, and the Revolutionary Army. The capital would probably be consumed in flames, but he cared nothing about that.

It was all about being the last one standing.

~o~

Author's Note: I wanted to start things after the Jaegers are introduced, but it seems I dallied too long. Looking back, I can see that I was stretching certain things to get that idea to work when I really shouldn't be. Looks like I can complain about other fics, but I'm blind to the flaws in my own fic. Truly e_e worthy. I'm starting things now before it starts to drag. Look forward to the new direction I'm taking it, made on the corpse of 10k.

;_; those 10k words. I barely knew them.

Anyways, I will be taking a bit longer to write the chapters. Posting twice a week has put a strain on my schedule, especially since editing takes up a lot of the time. If anyone is interested in becoming a beta because I need people to catch my technical mistakes and give me opinions, feel free to PM me. Seriously, I'm blind to my own mistakes so I do need honest and harsh opinions. However, you must have Skype, because I can't stand speaking to my beta by PM only. It just doesn't work out well.

And as always, thanks for reading!

Hm…? What's this?

Creepy, you say? It's like you don't remember the dog from the manga side story.


	7. Chapter 7

Sheele was lying in her bed with her eye open, staring blankly at the ceiling. The blanket that covered her was much too warm, but she made no move to remove it. It wasn't that she couldn't; it was because she didn't want to. There was a reason for that: she didn't want to wake him.

Her face slowly looked down. Tatsumi was kneeling by her bedside, his head lying in the crook of his arms on the left side of the bed. He was asleep, but it wasn't peaceful; his expression was tense, and there was sweat dripping down from his hairline. Beneath his eyelids, the bulges of his eyes were moving around rapidly. She wasn't quite sure what to do. She wanted to comfort him, to keep the nightmares away, but at the same time, she didn't want to wake him. It was such a hard dilemma that it took her over an hour before she came to a decision.

She reached her hand toward him.

Her fingers passed through his cheek.

"Ah." Her mouth hanged open as Sheele remembered something important. She had always been an airhead, and she knew that, but she didn't think she was this forgetful. That hand was gone. She raised the stump where her left hand used to be, the stitching closing the wound like the little tie on a grocery bag. It was strange, but even now, she could still faintly feel her fingers. It felt like if she flexed her fingers, they would just suddenly appear in front of her. Putting thought to action, she tried exactly that, but nothing showed up in front of her eye. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. Or maybe she just couldn't see them. Without her glasses on, most of the world beyond her bed was a blur. Her fingers could just be resting on her desk on the other side of the room.

She reached over to the nightstand on her right with her other hand, her palm patting the wooden surface as she groped around for her glasses. When she felt the familiar thin frame, she fumbled with it. It was hard to hold it properly when she was missing her index finger. Scooping it up between her middle finger and thumb, she brought it to her face and slipped them on, making sure that it went over the black eyepatch that covered her missing left eye.

When the world through her remaining eye became clear, she noticed in the darkness that Tatsumi was staring at her, having pushed his head up from the bed. There was a look of concern on his face before he covered it up with a smile.

"Are you hungry, Sheele?" It was a tender voice, perhaps something she didn't really deserve. Not after she abandoned her duty to comfort him for so long. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Sheele shook her head. "Go back to sleep?" She said, slowly forming a smile for his benefit, despite the fact that it stretched the stitching that began at the corners of her mouth and ran up her cheek. A small bit of blood leaked out of the long line of thread that kept her cheeks closed.

"Did you get any sleep?" Tatsumi grimaced at the Glasgow smile and the blood, but he didn't feel right about telling her not to smile. He took a tissue off a nearby nightstand and gently patted her cheeks with it.

"No."

"The medicine's not working?" The tissue was stained red.

"I don't feel much pain. I just don't feel sleepy either."

"Is that so?" Tatsumi held in his sigh. The medicine that they gave her had a mild sedative, but it looked like it wasn't working. He pulled back the blood-stained tissue. The bleeding had stopped, and thankfully, she wasn't aggravating it anymore with her smile. There was no question that it was going to scar badly. Still, he didn't want to see it get worse. He looked down at his clenched fist.

It was hard. It was hard seeing her like this.

"Tatsumi." Sheele cupped his cheek with her hand. However, instead of seeing his worries fall away like she expected, he cringed away from the rough, scarred touch. The boy quickly caught himself, but it was already too late.

"Sheele, you just surprised me." Tatsumi leaned forward, but Sheele had already pulled away her hand. He cursed himself when he saw the expression on her face. It really did surprise him, but he wouldn't have pulled away in the past, even instinctually. It was just that her hand, the skin was so rough and scarred, having been flayed off and literally glued back on multiple times, such that it felt more like sandpaper than skin.

"No, it's okay." Even as she said that, Sheele stared forlornly at her palm. It was…it was a little saddening, but she could handle it. Even if she couldn't comfort Tatsumi anymore, she could still fight. That was what she was good at. She closed her right eye, more to stop the tears gathering than anything else. Yes, that was all that she needed. "When can I fight again?"

Tatsumi shook his head. "You don't need to."

Sheele's eye snapped open, its gaze hardening. "What…did you say…?"

"Najenda will be taking you back to main headquarters in the south. The doctors there will be able to help you."

"I'm okay. I'm fine." Sheele began to push herself up with her remaining hand, but Tatsumi was quick to take hold of her other arm.

"No, it's not." Tatsumi urged her to lie back down with a couple of gentle pushes. "You're not okay."

"I can still fight."

"You can't," Tatsumi said, his voice noticeably rising. "You're hurt, Sheele."

"I can fight."

"You can barely walk."

"I can still fight," Sheele said incessantly.

"You'll die, Sheele!"

"I don't mind."

"I do!" Tatsumi's eyes got wetter as he stared passionately at her. "I don't want you to die."

"Tatsumi—"

"Sheele, listen to me! I'll take care of everything," Tatsumi said. "I'll make him pay for what he did to you. I promise."

"What?" She felt something cold crawl up her spine.

"I depended on you before, so please depend on me now. I won't let him get away with this."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember? The guy who hurt you," Tatsumi said. "Ranma Saotome. I'll make him pay for what he did."

Sheele bit her lip. "No. He's too strong."

"Don't worry. I'll get stronger."

She shook her head. "He's too strong."

"I know, I know." Tatsumi was starting to feel irritated, even though he knew he shouldn't. Why didn't she believe in him? He was getting stronger every day. "Trust me. I won't face him until I'm strong enough. Besides, I'll have help."

"Tatsumi." Sheele looked softly at him as she wrapped her stump of an arm around him and pulled him in. She hugged him, breathing in deeply his scent. It was slightly musky. Had he been watching over her for all this time? That thought warmed her heart and solidified her resolution.

"Sheele?"

"Thank you for caring."

"You don't need to—ack." Tatsumi gasped as he collapsed onto her. He tried to move his body, but it felt so weak compared to a moment ago. With some difficulty, he glanced up blurrily. Sheele was looking down at him sadly. As his eyes slowly closed, he heard only a couple of soft-spoken words at the edge of his consciousness.

"I'm sorry."

Sheele looked down at her unconscious friend and ran her fingers through his hair. A smile came onto her lips despite the bits of pain that it caused her. He looked so peaceful.

She was an airhead, through and through, but even someone like her had something that she was good at.

If she couldn't comfort Tatsumi, what use did she have?

If she couldn't fight, what purpose did she have?

She couldn't cook, she couldn't clean, and most jobs that she had tried her hand at ended in failure because of her clumsiness.

Once she went to the south, what would she do? They wouldn't let her fight anymore. How did she know? It was because Tatsumi wasn't a liar. He didn't mention anything about waiting for her to come back before fighting Ranma. That meant that it was likely she wouldn't be coming back.

It was only at the end of the conversation that she found something. One last thing she needed to do.

Even if she couldn't comfort him, she could protect him. Tatsumi was going to get himself killed for her sake. That was wrong. He gave her a purpose that didn't involve murder and assassination, but now he was going to give up his life? She couldn't accept that. She would never accept that.

Gently setting the sleeping boy aside, Sheele rose unsteadily from the bed. Her legs were balanced unevenly; the left one was too weak to fully support that side. She gripped the edges of the table and the wall to keep her balance as she slowly made her way.

She silently opened the door and peeked out. Empty. Even with her injuries, she was sure that she could make it through the base without waking anyone. She was aware of the location of the wire traps as well. She just needed to get a few things.

And then, she would do what needed to be done.

~o~

Genma stared incredulously at Ranma from across the dinner table, even going so far as to pause in his eating. There was only one thought that ran through his head, so he gave it voice.

"This is the dumbest idea you've thought of yet, boy."

"It's not that bad," Ranma said. "And besides, we can't turn our backs on them, Pops."

"Yes, we can. This isn't our war," Genma said. "A martial artist should only take a life when it's absolutely necessary."

"I know that. It's not like I'm gonna to go around killing people."

"Are you stupid, boy? You can't get through a war without killing. One way or another, you'll take a life. It'll start with one death, but then you'll find a reason to create one more. Then another. Then even more. Once you finally look back, you'll find a hill of corpses behind you."

"Like I said, I'm not gonna become some crazy mass murderer. I just think we should help them out a little."

"You don't understand, boy. The price is way too high," Genma said. "And this was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement. Don't get involved."

"What am I supposed to do? Just turn my back on them and let them die?"

"Yes."

Ranma glared at him. "I knew you were selfish, Pops, but I didn't think you were like this."

"Think, boy! They survived this long before we came. How long do you plan to stay here? A month, a year, a decade? Winning a war is not something easy or quick. To create big waves in the world, no matter the goal, you must sacrifice something of yourself. To become a business tycoon, you must sacrifice your integrity. To become a great politician, you must sacrifice your honesty. To win a war, what will you sacrifice?" Genma stared sternly at Ranma.

"You seem to have lost all that without doing anything." Ranma frowned. "I know what I'm getting into."

"Do you?" Genma gave him a glare and frustrated sigh. "Why do you think the Master became how he is now?"

"Happosai?" Genma tried to cover his mouth, but Ranma caught him by the wrist. "I don't know. Wasn't he always like that?"

"He became like that long before he started teaching me and Soun. Still, get the Master drunk enough, and he talks like no tomorrow. What he said was…" Genma trailed off. Actually, it would probably make things worse if he told the whole story. "Well, that's not important. What's important is that he used to strive for a grand ideal that would benefit the whole of Japan and put his name on those history books of yours. He succeeded, but look at him now." He scoffed. "Is that what you want to do, boy? Tend to your _silky darlings_ for the rest of your life?"

"Stop being overdramatic, Pops. It's not like that," Ranma said. "But I'm not gonna just turn my back on them."

"Did you not listen to a word I said, boy? No matter how big the reward is, you stand to lose yourself. It's not worth it."

"And if I turn my back on them? What then, Pops?"

"What have I been telling you, boy? They can handle it on their own."

Genma and Ranma glared at each other, their eyes showing their resolve. Ultimately, Genma was the first to turn away.

"Do as you like, boy. You're not a child anymore," Genma said with a stern expression. "But I'll have no part in this madness."

"Yeah, like I needed you anyways." Ranma threw down his chopsticks and stormed out.

Genma watched his son leave the room. His eyes narrowed. This was too far in. They had gotten too involved, and the effects were showing. He should have left this place long ago, but the temptation to gain more riches was too much for him to ignore. That had been a mistake.

"I'm done." The bald martial artist stood up from his seat. He had lost his appetite, something that he had never thought he would say. He had a feeling that even if he put another piece of chicken into his mouth, it would only taste like ash at the moment. That foolish boy. He had taught him better than this.

It looked like it was up to him to get them out, even if he had to knock out Ranma and flee the capital. Nonetheless, it would be rather simple matter; it wasn't like escaping was something new to him. The problem was that the loot was still in the city. He had secured many hiding places for them, and he had gotten more than half of it out of the palace. However, to get even that portion out of the city and back to Japan was a whole different matter. It was impossible at the moment.

At the same time, Genma couldn't let his son stay in this city. It wouldn't be long before the boy succumbs to the nature of this society. He had to get him out before then.

Genma sigh. There was no choice then. He would have to abandon the loot. The portion in the palace would be lost, but at least, the half that was in the city could be retrieved later. It shouldn't be hard once he got in contact with the Tendos. Soun's girl should be able to fix something up like a private plane with a pilot or something. Once he had that, he would be able to return and take back what was his…theirs…his.

~o~

Ranma wandered aimlessly in the night. There were not many civilians in the town after dark, and it was obvious why. With Night Raid and killers like Zank running around, most felt it wasn't safe. Still, there were scatterings of reckless couples and the homeless that made it more populated than it would have been otherwise. The Imperial Guards that noticed him gave nods or waves, but he didn't notice them at all as he walked through the dark streets that were lined with lampposts.

He didn't agree with what Pops was saying, but some of the things he said did hit home. This wasn't his place. He wasn't a soldier, and he wasn't a killer. Kill or be killed. That concept was so out of place back in Japan. Here, it was an everyday thing.

That was something he couldn't accept. It wasn't like he didn't know anybody that killed back in Nerima. Half of the people he knew had done it in some way or form, but he knew for a fact that it was against fighters in the field of battle.

He remembered those men, women, and children slaughtered in those mansions. That was just murder, done by the Revolutionary Army.

He remembered the sliced apart guards in the snow and Spear, her belly split open as if she had just committed seppuku. The Empire was committing murder as well.

This wasn't his war.

Ranma looked up, snapping out of his thoughts. The street was empty. There weren't even lampposts here, such that only the full moon above illuminated the area. The buildings around himwere decayed, and the candles behind those window curtains were being snuffed out as a hush fell on the street.

Bloodlust. It was potent enough that he was sure that even civilians would be able to feel it. A cloaked woman was sitting next to the wall of a decrepit building, trying not to look out of place, but he could feel that it was coming from her. She was covered entirely in the dusty brown cloak, to the point that the features of her face were shrouded by the hood. Despite that, he kept walking, even though he was now on alert.

The moment that he stepped past her, she struck. A short sword slashed out from the left sleeve of the cloak with enough strength that it would have a tore a chunk out of him, if he had been standing there.

"You shouldn't give yourself away like that. I could feel your aura from a mile away," Ranma said as he landed lightly on his feet in the middle of the road.

The cloaked woman said nothing as she laboriously stood up. She was breathing hard, but in spite of that, she took up her own stance. Only the blade of the short sword was peeking out of her left sleeve. In her right hand was a knife held in a four finger grip. Her movements were jerky but quick, like a rapidly shifting mirage.

There was no warning. One moment, she was standing still, and the next, she was charging straight into the fray.

"Whoa." Ranma leapt backwards as the knife's blade sliced through the air. Landing a dozen feet back, he analyzed his opponent a bit further. He had misjudged his foe, for that swing had been far faster than what her running speed seemed to suggest. It was like a weird mixture of speed, different for each action.

Still, it was in the realm of his abilities. He had just been caught off guard for moment; that was all.

~o~

The journey was long and harsh. Her mind was tired. Her body was tired. Still, she persevered.

For Sheele, there was no other alternative. She was a savant of murder. Once, she had thought she had a different role. A noble role. Serving to bring down a corrupt Empire. A gentle role. To mentor the young.

She knew differently now. Her mind was only focused on one series of thoughts. That was…

Murder, carnage, massacre.

She would not apologize when she killed this time. There was no need to.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

Kill the _.

Kill the…the…

What was that?

Kill? Why did she need to kill?

Had she forgotten?

No, there was no reason. There was no need for one.

She didn't need it. Not anymore.

She ignored the cries of her body, screaming for her not to push beyond her limits. The only thought that entered her mind was the need to kill, to rend that which was in front of her apart.

That was because…

This was her last role.

~o~

Ranma tilted his head to the side, dodging the thrust of the short sword held in the left hand. As it went by, he noticed that there was a bundle of rope around the hilt of it, making it into a make-shift pata which was basically a gauntlet directly attached to the blade of a sword. Though, now wasn't the time to speculate. He slid back to avoid a slash from the knife in her other hand and retaliated with a side kick.

The woman was hit in the chest, but she rolled backwards the moment she touched the ground, lessening the impact. Her weapons scraped along the ground as she slid to a stop, posed like a lizard. Rising to her feet, she stood lopsidedly with her blades exposed. The short sword rigged to her arm and the knife she held in her left hand swayed unevenly.

Ranma blinked. On the ground where she had initially hit the floor, there was a smear of blood.

"I don't know who you are, but you shouldn't be fighting if you're injured."

Ignoring his words, the cloaked woman arched her back, as if she was silently screaming at the sky. Like before, she fell into a charge, running along the right side of the street. Reaching the wall—the limit of her path—she leaped into the air and landed feet first on the way without missing a step in her run. Using her speed and momentum to keep her afloat, she moved nearly parallel to the ground. Bloody footprints marked her path, but she didn't slow in the slightest. Upon reaching her target, she leapt off the wall, spinning her body and her weapons in a tornado of blades.

It wasn't fast enough to faze Ranma, but he held back from striking her out of the air. He stepped back and to the side, avoiding the spinning blades. The woman landed roughly on her feet, the sound of bone fracturing accentuating her arrival and causing Ranma to grimace. She didn't seem to notice at all as she was quick to rush in, bringing both weapons to bear.

"I know I done some—" Ranma shifted to the side to dodge a vertical slash. "—bad things, but not enough that I'd—" He bent over backwards to avoid a double thrust. "—get some hospital patient after me. You're bleeding all over the place." He stepped back to dodge the woman's swing, but it had also swung a splash of blood that caught him across nose, from cheek to cheek. He wiped it off with a grimace even while he continued to evade her attacks. Yeah, that definitely wasn't his blood.

Ranma frowned as he continued to evade her attacks. The woman didn't seem to even acknowledge anything he said. Furthermore, he didn't want to attack back, especially when it looked like she would fall dead if he blew air into her direction, not that it seemed to stop her from attacking him. Still, she couldn't keep this up forever. He could, but not this injured psycho. She looked like she was pushing herself far beyond her limits, and she was probably going to kill herself this way. He had to stop her here and now before it gets worse.

As if sensing his resolution, the woman began to sprint towards him. At the same time that the cloaked woman slashed out with her blades, Ranma snaked out his hands to catch her wrist. He missed.

"Damn." Ranma backed off, moving out of range of the weapons. Blood dripped down his cheek. Reaching up, he flicked the blood off. It was a shallow cut, but that didn't make him feel any better about it. The moment he had reached for her, the blades—in mid-strike—increased in speed, throwing him off his pace. It was one thing to deal with a fighter you could predict—someone angry was especially easy to deal with—but this person was inconsistent. Her movement speed and attack speed were changing from moment to moment, probably due to her fatigue. Her injuries, paired with that single-minded focus of hers, was making what would be a relatively normal fighting style become unpredictable.

Though, was it normal in the first place? Her style seemed more like it was instinct than anything else. At times, she would lean to the side, unconsciously swiping at an awkward angle or change the strength or speed while in mid-swing. For Ranma, who was used to adjusting to an opponent's level, it was annoying. He could avoid everything, but it would take a disproportional amount of effort just account to the extreme changes in her attacks. On the other hand, he could end this quickly a few strikes, but he didn't know if it would seriously hurt her or not, especially since blood was still dripping down her shoes even now. Still, he had to end this before her condition could get even worse.

This time, Ranma was the one who charged in. He rushed straight forward, intending to grapple her to the ground.

With a twirl, the woman threw off her cloak. The brown blood-stained cloak fluttered in the air, blocking his sight of her for a second or two, but that was more than enough. Her blades speared through the fabric, ripping it asunder when she tore outward with her blades.

Ranma ducked under the blender of blades as he performed a low sweep. His heel smacked into her ankle, knocking her off her feet. When she hit the ground on her back, he swung his body over her so he was on top of her. He pinned her arms down with his hands and pressed his knee against her throat. His other knee rested on her diaphragm. It was an awkward position, but it was enough to cut off her air flow. She struggled violently against the hold, but he held it until finally, he felt her slowly fall limp.

The pigtailed martial artist let out a sigh as he rolled off of her. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. The hard part was over. Now, he had to make sure that she wouldn't die. He rose back to his knees, taking his first good look on his opponent. He blinked in surprise.

"Scissor girl?" It really was that assassin from Night Raid, the one he had defeated before. Though now, she looked like she got ripped apart by wolves, stitched back together, and then shredded again. Blood was leaking from those stitches on her cheek, giving it the appearance of a grotesque, bloody, and impossibly large smile. The short sword that he had seen wasn't held in her left hand; the hilt was directly tied by a bundle of rope to her wrist stump as if it was a spearhead. Her left leg was held together by a make-shift crutch that seemed like it would break at any time, and there were bloodied bandages all over the exposed portions of her legs.

She was supposed to be in prison, but did she escape from there? How come she had so many wounds? Did they do this to her? Was it his fault for bringing her in?

He licked his dry lips. There was a time for panicking, but this certainly wasn't that time. If he didn't get help for her soon, then it wouldn't be long before she takes a permanent dirt nap. But where could he go? If the prison wardens did this to her, he certainly wasn't going to bring her back there. She was an assassin. Why was he even trying to save her? She deserved this for the people she murdered.

…did she? He didn't know what to think, but he didn't like this either. He didn't like this one bit. There was interrogation, but this…this was sadistic. He couldn't let this happen again. This was his fault. Still, where could he bring her? It was likely that most of the doctors in the town would alert the Imperial Guards about this, especially with her wounds.

Wait. There was one place. Didn't Honest mention that too? Ranma picked her up in a bridal style and started running.

~o~

"There aren't many who would knock on my door this time of night." Chouri rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as the maids brought in a fresh set of bandages. Lying on the bed was the purple-haired assassin, her face paler than it was before. Her breathing was erratic and shallow. "Especially to bring a known assassin to my doorstep."

"Sorry 'bout that. Didn't know who else I could turn to."

"It's fine." Chouri was more interested in something else. "I take it that you decided to join the Revolution then."

Ranma shook his head.

"Hmm?" Chouri raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you bring her here?"

"It's because you're a revolutionary. I figured you could take her home."

"Wait, what was that?" Chouri became furious. "Now listen here, young man. I've never supported this rebellion in my life, and I never will."

"But Honest said—"

"You actually believe a word that man says?"

"He hasn't lied to me yet."

"He lied to you all the time."

Ranma frowned. "And how do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't." Chouri returned the frown. "I can't make you believe me, but I hope, in time, that you will come to understand the truth."

"Just want to say that I'm not gonna join the revolution even if you say that."

"Didn't I just say that I'm not a part of them?" Chouri sighed. He supposed that he wouldn't be trying so hard if he didn't care. Well, it was hard not to care. He did owe the young man for saving their lives. "Proof of the Prime Minister's misdeeds is not hard to find."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just open your eyes and ears," Chouri said. "A truth that you don't discover on your own loses meaning."

"Huh?"

Chouri didn't answer and merely walked over to the unconscious assassin. Gently pushing aside the maid at attendance, he began to strip the shirt off of the assassin.

"Hey, what're you doing?!" Ranma stepped forward to stop him, but Chouri had already spread the shirt open.

"See for yourself." Chouri stepped aside.

The sight that greeted Ranma was…

Ranma took a step back, his eyes wide open. His stomach churned at the sight, yet it was like a train wreck; he couldn't look away. It was only when he physically couldn't stand it anymore that he turned away and ran from the room, callously shoving aside a butler who was in the way.

~o~

"Blarrgh." Vomit spewed from his mouth as Ranma stood bent over, his hand pressed heavily onto the trunk of a tree to support himself. He was currently in the backyard, under the sight of the full moon, but he was in no condition to admire either aspect. He didn't know how long he was there, puking out his dinner and probably his lunch as well, though by the time it was nearing the end of it, he had simply resorted to dry heaving. His eyes watered, but he blinked them away.

"Are you okay?" It was only then that he noticed that a small hand had been rubbing his back in a circular motion. For how long? Ranma didn't know. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and turned his head.

"Spear?" The girl in question nodded her head. She wasn't wearing the fur coat that he had seen her in last time, opting for a simple light blue nightgown.

"You remember," Spear said with a smile.

"What're you doing here?"

"Well, I live here."

"Oh, right," Ranma finished lamely. He turned his head to the side and spat out the little bits of vomit that was still in his mouth. The acidic taste was still there, but there was nothing he could do about that right now.

"I saw you outside my window. It's strange for you to come at this time of night, but I'm sure father can give you a spare bedroom to use."

"It's fine. I was just talking to him."

Spear looked at him in concern. "Did something happen?"

"It's…it's nothing."

"You can talk to me. I won't tell anyone," Spear said. "It'd be rude to, especially since you saved my life."

"It's just…" Ranma swallowed, before he grimaced at the taste. "You think you know something, but it might not be what you think it is. Or it might be something else. Do you know what I mean?"

"Not really." Spear looked down at the puddle of vomit. "And I can't see why it would make you puke out your lung."

"I saw something that I didn't want to see." Even with his eyes open, he could still see the faint image of it overlaid over everything. The wounds she had looked bad, but under her clothes, it was worse. It was like a kid decided to play 'put the all toppings you can on the okonomiyaki'. There were so many stitching and raw skin that he couldn't even begin to understand what they had done to her.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Ranma shook his head. How would he even begin to describe it? The only thing that came to his mind was one word: pizza. That thought made him feel a little hungry despite throwing up a minute ago, and that made him feel worse. He shivered a little.

"Ranma…" Spear wrapped her arms around his head, bringing him to her chest. "It's okay."

Ranma knew that he should have resisted, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. He gritted his teeth in frustration. Why did he feel so weak? He had seen worse things before, somewhere in the past. He couldn't think of anything, but he was sure he did. So why was this affecting him so much?

"I'm here for you, Ranma. You don't have to keep it bottled up inside," Spear said. "Whatever it is, it's not your fault."

Fault. That was right, wasn't it? It was his fault that the assassin girl was like this. At the same time, how was this supposed to be his fault? He didn't know the police would do this. Weren't they supposed to do it with judges, court systems, and international humanitarian laws? No, he knew it was different here. There were places that didn't adhere to that. Didn't he already knew this when he first stepped foot into the city? They had those people hanging from the crosses.

The Revolutionary Army was full of murderers, but was the Empire the same as well? To do something like this to a prisoner was just…inhuman.

Ranma gently pushed Spear away. He had been blind, haven't he? This was the true face of this country. It wasn't like it was some invading army; it was a civil war. They both came from the same coin.

This was like that lecture back at Furinkan High that Hinako forced him to stay awake for. He remembered the lesson about the feudal periods when there were shoguns and samurais. It was commonplace for people to be killed, sometimes just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. No matter which daimyo you served or which territory you lived in, it was the same. That was the kind of place this feudal Japan was. It was the same kind of place here as well.

For the first time, Ranma felt a desire to leave.

Maybe Pops was right. This wasn't the place for them. It wasn't their war.

"Why is this place so messed up?"

"That's because of the Prime Minister," Spear answered without hesitation.

"Honest?" Ranma shook his head. That wasn't right; it wasn't just Honest. Maybe the guy lied to him, but this was just one part of it. The whole country was just…_wrong_.

"Is it that hard to believe?

"That's not it." He backed away. "I need to go."

Before Spear could say anything more, Ranma hopped up the tree and leaped over the fence. He landed on the street and sprinted away.

~o~

Leone was crouching next to a smear of blood on the road, sniffing the air. Something had definitely happened here, and it didn't look good from the amount of blood that she found on the ground and walls. She dipped her finger into the blood and scooped up a little, bringing it up to her face. She rubbed it between her index and thumb, separating the dirt and gravel from it. It was still wet.

"This was recent." Leone sniffed the air and stood up, wiping her fingers on her clothes. "I think she was here. She was fighting with somebody."

Five shadows detached from the darkness of the streets and alleyways.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings, paying those five shadows no mind. It was a few moments before she nodded to herself.

"This way." Leone started running in a certain direction. The five shadowy figures followed closely behind.

~o~

Author's Note: As always, if you're interested in pre-reading for me, send me a PM.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a clear night with a full moon, though for one pigtail martial artist, Ranma didn't even have time to appreciate it. He hadn't even gone a few blocks before he felt them. In the dark, it was difficult to see, but he could feel them all around him, hiding within the shadows.

From the darkness of the alley, a young girl dressed in black and red walked out. One of her hands was on the sheath while the other was on the hilt of her katana.

Akame.

Behind him, a shadow dropped from the rooftop, cracking the cement with his landing. The armored man stood up at his full, impressive height and spun his spear in a practiced motion.

Bulat.

That wasn't all though. There were more on the rooftops and in the shadows of the alleyways, watching and waiting. They could have surrounded him, but this was tactically better; Akame's Teigu wouldn't be able to accidently poison Bulat because of his armor. Still, this wasn't a good situation. If those two failed, they had back-up to finish him off. There were around four more opponents waiting in the background, their positions suggesting that their role was to intervene in the fight or cut off his escape if necessary.

"If you're here for the scissor girl, I left her at Chouri's place." They didn't reply. Instead, he could feel his murderous intent increase. "Guess not."

It seemed that he was going to have to do this the hard way. They seemed to be itching for a fight.

"I always did like a challenge." Ranma rolled his shoulders, working out the joints. If he exchanged the fact that they were cold-blooded, murdering assassins with the obsessed martial artists in Nerima, it would almost feel like home.

"You gonna stand here all day?"

Akame and Bulat didn't charge in, but Ranma could feel the aura of subtle anger hidden under the emotionless façade of the girl in front of him as well as the erupting passion and fury that rolled off the armored man. A grin appeared on his lips. He could use that.

"I hope you're better fighters than the scissor girl was." Ranma could feel their killing intent flare. He shifted his arms and legs into a stance. The two assassins slowly circled the pigtailed martial artist, but he stood sideways so he could keep them both at the edges of his vision. "I know you're trying to disorient me by this circling, but all you're doing is dragging this out. You better come at me with everything you got, 'cause I can take on an old man and his son any day."

Akame's eye twitched

"Ah, sorry. Thought you were a guy since your chest was so flat. I heard that they'll get bigger if you drink more milk."

Akame immediately leapt straight forward, her katana already leaving her sheath mid-stride.

"Akame, wait!" Bulat cursed and rushed in to support his comrade. They were supposed to attack at the same time, but it was too late now.

Ranma began his dance, and the battle was joined.

~o~

Tatsumi was crouched low on the rooftop as he observed the fight's progress on the streets below. Lying on her belly next to him was Mine. She was looking through the scope of her rifle and constantly adjusting her aim, but there was a frustrated expression on her face.

"He's moving around too much. I can't get a clear shot."

"You don't need to hit him. As long as you can distract him, that should be fine."

"Shut up. You don't think I already know that?" Mine gritted her teeth as she pulled her rifle slightly to the left. "You saw me shoot a couple of times already, but he completely ignored them. Unless I can get a real shot off, it won't do any good."

"If you do that, you might hit Akame or Bulat."

"Idiot, I'm a genius sniper. I won't shoot if there's a chance of that." Mine shifted the rifle to the right. "I just can't keep him in my scope for more than a second. He's moving too fast, and the others are too close for me to do anything."

Tatsumi stared down at the fight below. Akame and Bulat were commencing a vicious assault, but Ranma was weaving through the storm like a dancer. Fortunately, they were keeping the pigtailed martial artist on the defensive; Ranma hadn't been able to make any offensive strikes at all this whole fight. More often than not, friendly fire was the bigger concern. If it wasn't for Incursio, Bulat would have been nicked by Murasame's deadly curse several times already. Akame's clothing, on the other hand, was sporting more than a few rips.

That was when he noticed something.

"Mine, I think he's moving in a circle."

"Hm?" Mine stared into her scope for a few seconds before her eyes widened. "No, that's a spiral."

"That's it!" Tatsumi punched a fist into his palm. "If you can predict the next step in that spiral, you can shoot at where he will appear and catch him off-guard."

"For an idiot, you come up with some good ideas every once in a while." Mine smiled, ignoring Tatsumi's fuming anger as she stared into her scope at the pigtailed martial artist. She spent a little while to study his movements, but it wasn't long before she had enough data to do her calculations. If they were right, then he would soon reach—huh?

Ranma had stopped moving to throw his first counterattack. However, the uppercut he threw came nowhere close to hitting Akame or Bulat. Mine readjusted her sights, putting weight on the trigger. Before she could fully pull it, something incredible happened.

A tornado swirled to life on the spot, obscuring her view of him. It only took a moment before it became massive, reaching far above even the rooftops. The force of the wind alone was powerful to rip the tiles straight off and collect them into its twirling grasp.

"Ah!" The surprise caused Mine to lose her grip on her Teigu. The rifle tumbled away from her, but she leaped after it, landing heavily on the rifle. She grabbed and clutched it to her chest as she slid down the slanted roof.

"Mine!" Tatsumi dived in after her. He slid down the roof roughly, the tiles snagging and ripping his clothes. He reached out his hand and managed to grab hold of the back of Mine's coat just as she was about to fall off the edge and into the tornado. With his other hand, he unsheathed his sword and stabbed it into the roof. The wind was pulling at him powerfully, but he flipped over as he was lying on his back and slammed the heels of his feet into the rain drainage pipes along the edge of the rooftop. With a massive amount of effort and desperation, he pulled Mine up to him.

"Why did you come for me?! You could've died!" Even though Mine was yelling, her voice was barely a whisper over the loud shrieks of the wind.

"Mine, shut up and hold onto me!" The pink-haired girl wrapped her arms around Tatsumi with Pumpkin lying uncomfortably in between them. "I won't let you go!"

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" Despite that, their grip around each other was tight. The winds raged powerfully around them, enough that they didn't dare open their eyes for fear that something might poke them out. Debris of all kind were being randomly sucked in and spat out, such that they could feel bits and pieces striking them as they held on to each other.

Tatsumi gritted his teeth and rolled over. He pushed Mine against the rooftop, using the weight of his whole body to keep her place. His back shielded her from the vicious onslaught that seemed to continue on endlessly.

By the time that the winds died down, their breaths were coming in heavy, and their hearts were beating at a mile an hour.

"Mine…are you okay…?" Tatsumi swallowed in the midst of his heavy breathing, but all he tasted was dust and ash. He leaned his head over and spat it out, but the taste wouldn't go away.

Mine nodded her head. Her hair was beyond frizzled, and her cheeks were flushed from exertion.

"You can…let go now…"

Mine blinked. Looking down at her hands, she realized that her arms were still wrapped tightly around Tatsumi. She released her grip and shoved him away, her cheeks now burning with embarrassment. "Shut up, idiot." The statement, however, lacked her usual power and temperament.

Tatsumi flopped over beside her, lying on his back.

"What happened?" Mine got up unsteadily to her feet.

"I don't know." Tatsumi pushed himself up. Despite all this, they were still on a job. He slowly made his way to his feet and looked down below. The street was in shambles. Lubbock and Leone were helping Akame and Bulat to their feet, but that wasn't all. Down the street, a contingency of Imperial Guards were advancing on their position. "We got trouble."

"Is it Ranma?" Mine frowned. That tornado totally and utterly confirmed it. Ranma was a wind Teigu user. There was no other explanation for the tornado as well as his incredible speed and lithe movements which could be done by reducing air resistance around his body. That made him a far more dangerous enemy than she previously thought.

"He's gone." Tatsumi pulled his sword out of the roof, not noticing Mine's sigh of relief. "But the rest are going to need support to get away."

"Already on it." Mine had already regained her steadiness and was looking through the scope of her rifle. The lead soldier was already in her target reticule. She pulled the trigger.

~o~

Ranma walked into the bedroom, exhausted from the night's events. Even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, it was all a bit too much for him. There was a lot that he had to think about, but at the moment, he was too tired to do much of that. The fight had taken quite a bit out of him, because he couldn't afford to allow a single glancing hit in. Akame's blade ensured that it would be a death sentence, but if he had attacked outright, it was sure to draw the attention of the assassins in reserve.

He was already dealing with two unknowns; to add more on that was more than he could handle, loathed that he was to admit it. If he knew more about how they fought, then yeah, he would be able to figure something out. Still, it wasn't something he would like to risk, especially with his life on the line. The fact that it worked out smoothly enough was a relief.

He walked over the king-sized bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes. Makoto was already asleep, mumbling in his sleep.

He flopped down unceremoniously onto his side of the bed, falling asleep the moment that he touched the pillow. His last fading thought was that he was going to get the sheets dirty.

~o~

It was morning by the time that Chouri thought to check up on patient. Opening the door, he wasn't surprised to see the assassin had disappeared from the bed. The straps that had held her down were cut cleanly through, possibly from an exceedingly sharp blade. The window was left wide open, and the guard who had been stationed to watch over the assassin was lying on the floor.

He walked over to the guard, crouched down, and felt his neck for a pulse. The man was alive. He relaxed and nodded to himself, satisfied at his findings. It was true that he expected them to come, but he had thought that there would be some noise, especially since these were soldiers trained by Grand General Budo. It spoke of their experience and skill. On top of that, to be able to get in and get out without shedding a drop of blood was admirable in and of itself, in spite of their dark profession.

Chouri stood up. He would need to call for his security team to help the unconscious guard as well as search and clear the room. It was a precaution to avoid left-over booby traps, though it seemed unnecessary considering the modus operandi of Night Raid. Still, it was never a bad thing to be cautious, especially in these turbulent times.

~o~

Ranma woke up to an empty bed and a bad taste in his mouth. It didn't take long before he remembered why there was a dry, disgusting taste in his mouth; he hadn't washed it out last night. The residue from the vomit was making itself known, and it had probably done havoc to his teeth, but he still didn't move from where he was lying down. That was because the rest of the night came back to him as well.

He simply stared up at the ceiling as he worked out the many thoughts that were overloading his brain. For one thing, it didn't feel as bad as it did last night. It wasn't his fault that the scissor girl ended up like that. Sure, he gave her to the police, but that was what anybody would do. If you couldn't hand a criminal over to the police, who could you hand them over to?

This place was messed up, but that didn't mean Japan didn't do the same thing, just not as blatantly. He had seen enough of those spy thrillers that the Tendos watched from time to time to know somewhat of what was going on in the world. Yet, at the same time, that was something that was far away from everyday life there. More than anything, though, that dark underworld wasn't part of his life in Japan.

Sure, he felt bad about the scissor girl, worse than when he found out that he accidentally cursed Ryoga. She was a cripple now and out for revenge. Not that she could get it, but it was the thought that counts. He knew he shouldn't feel anything for them. They were unrepentant murderers. However, he wasn't like Honest and the rest of them. He couldn't just push the matter aside as if it didn't matter at all. This was the reason why he was still lying in the bed, bothered by the whole thing. It didn't help that his mind was running in a cycle of thought with no end in sight.

Ranma didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the door open and a shuffle of feet came near to the bed. He recognized it though, so he wasn't worried at all. A small form sat on the bed.

"Ranma, did you hear about what happened last night?" Makoto was still dressed in his full ceremonial outfit, but he didn't seem to mind that he was wrinkling it as he moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. "A tornado appeared in the middle of town out of nowhere! I never seen one before, but I heard it was like a fast swirl of wind." He twirled his hands to emphasize his point.

Ranma didn't bother to respond as he continued stared up at the ceiling.

"Ranma? Are you hungry?"

He shook his head.

Makoto's eyes widened. "W-what? Are you dying?! I'll call the best doctor in the palace!"

Ranma quickly grabbed his sleeve to stop him. "I'm not sick or anything."

"But you said you weren't hungry, and that's impossible. I know you didn't eat breakfast."

"I just have a lot on my mind."

"Oh." Makoto calmed down. There were a couple of moments of silence between them as he looked at Ranma apprehensively. The pigtailed martial artist merely stared upward. Finally, he broke the silence and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Why does everyone ask that?"

Makoto frowned. "Who is everyone?"

"Nobody."

Makoto's brow furrowed.

"It's just a girl I saved."

Makoto's frown deepened.

"She was worried about me."

Makoto used his fingers to pull the edges of his lips down even more.

"Now, you're just messing with me."

Makoto released his lips and smiled. "At least, you feel better now, don't you?"

"I don't."

"But you're smiling."

Ranma blinked and touched his face. "Huh. I guess I am."

Makoto covered his mouth, stifling his laughter. "Honest always told that even when you face a problem, you should be confident and believe in him. He always makes those problems go away. That should be true for you too. Be confident and believe in yourself, because I believe in you too."

Ranma stared at him. He seriously _stared_ at him. Makoto continued to smile happily under his gaze. It was a few more moments before he broke it and sat up.

"Ranma, you look a little flushed."

"I-I'm fine." Ranma turned his head and stood up from the bed. "I need to go talk with Pops."

Popping and cracking his joints, he stretched out the kinks before he made his way toward the exit to the room. Just before he left, he looked back with a confident smile. He really was feeling a lot better.

"Thanks."

~o~

"Hey Pops, are you here?" Ranma turned the doorknob and opened the door.

In the center of the room, a panda froze while in the process of wrapping itself in an expensive robe of red and white. They stared at each other for a few long moments before Ranma silently shut the door.

Ranma counted to fifty in his mind before he tried again.

"Hey Pops, are you here?"

"You can come in, boy."

Ranma opened to door to reveal the same room as before, except standing in the middle of it was his father wearing a white gi. The expensive robe was nowhere to be seen.

"Did you need something, boy?"

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something," Ranma said as he walked into the room, making sure to close the door behind him.

"Get on with it, boy."

"It's about the thing we talked about last time."

"The answer's still no."

"That's not it," Ranma said. "I'm starting to think you were right. We don't belong here."

"Oh?"

"It's just…this place…" Ranma grimaced as the memory that haunted him came back to the forefront of his thoughts. "I think we should leave."

"I'm proud of you, boy," Genma said. "You're starting to mature as a man."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Being a man means knowing what battles should be fought. Arguing with your mother is an example of a battle where winning is the same as losing."

"I…guess…?"

"That settles it, boy. We're leaving tonight."

Ranma blinked in surprise. "Tonight?"

"The sooner, the better."

"What about the jewelry and money?"

"I hid half of it in town. We'll get it later after we get back to the Tendos. Soun's girls will know what to do."

"You mean Nabiki, right?"

"Yes. When it comes to money, that girl is like a spider," Genma said as he nodded.

"We still have to get back there, right? Japan is halfway across the world," Ranma said.

"We'll figure out a way, like we always have."

"I suppose so."

"Pack up your things, boy. We're leaving at midnight."

"Yeah, I will. I just need to say goodbye."

"Well, make it quick, boy. We don't have that much time," Genma said. "And make sure not to tell anyone important. I don't want to be chased out of here as well."

~o~

By the time that the sun was lowering on the horizon, Ranma had packed up everything that he could. Ever since he started getting a salary, he had bought a lot of things here and there with his own money. It wasn't much at first, but it had built up over time, such that he now had a small collection of knickknacks. Deciding what to get rid of and what to keep took most of his day.

Finally, he had settled for getting rid of almost all of it. They weren't really needed anyways and just took up space. He mostly kept some of the smaller things that had a bit of sentimental value. In the end, his pack was only a little slightly bigger than before, but it wasn't enough that it would actually impede him on the journey. Still, he needed to keep it as light as possible since there was no telling when the Takamiya heiress would find their new trail and renew the chase.

Ranma had only one thing left to do.

That was to say goodbye. There was really only one person he wanted to say it to.

He took a deep breath before he opened the door to the bedroom. Inside, Makoto was sitting on the bed, reading a book. However, the younger boy put it down the moment he saw who entered the room.

"Ranma!" Makoto smiled brightly. "It's early. I thought you'd still be patrolling in town."

"Uh, yeah, Makoto, there's something I want to talk to you about." Ranma walked over to the bed and sat down beside the younger boy.

"About what?"

"Well, this is kinda hard to say so I'll just say it outright." Ranma paused a moment. "I'm leaving."

"Leaving?"

"I'm going back home to Japan."

"What?!" Makoto turned to face Ranma fully, his expression frantic. "Why?!"

"Me and Pops. We don't belong here."

"What about me?"

"I can't stay here. Everything is too different here," Ranma said. "Probably the only reason I stayed this long was because of you."

"Can't you stay here longer then?" There was a desperate hope in Makoto's eyes.

Ranma shook his head.

"There's nothing I can do to make you stay?"

"Sorry." Ranma looked at him with more than a little regret. "Like I said, I really like you, but this place is not for me. I wish I could stay with you longer."

"Then stay. For me?"

"I can't. This place is already too much for me to handle."

"Will you ever come back?"

"No."

The two lapsed into silence. There was nothing more they could say to each other without repeating their words over and over. So they sat there, enjoying each other's company for the last time. It was hard, especially with how close they had gotten during the short time they had known each other. Anxiety and pained sadness plagued Makoto, but every time he opened his mouth—to talk, to screech, to rant, to do something—he quickly closed it a moment later. He feared that if he broke it, this small bit of contentment would be broken forever. It was only when the night truly began in earnest that Ranma finally stood up.

"I have to leave."

"A-already?" Makoto was downtrodden.

"Yeah." Ranma started walking to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, but not before he gave a little whisper. "Goodbye, Makoto."

Just as Ranma turned the doorknob, Makoto stood up from the bed.

"Wait!"

Ranma paused and turned his head to face Makoto.

"Ranma," Makoto began. He paused for a second, as if to summon up the courage. "Take me with you."

"Huh?" Ranma blinked and turned around fully. "What did you say?"

"I want to come with you."

"No. It's a hard, difficult journey, and besides, you're an emperor. Life outside the palace is pretty harsh. You can't eat whenever you want, and you got to work for everything you want to do."

"I don't care," Makoto said. "Take me with you."

"I can't," Ranma said.

"Please. Just this one thing. I won't ask anything more." Tears gathered at the edges of Makoto's eyes. "I just don't want to lose you. Without you, I don't know what to do anymore."

"B-but what about the Empire?"

Makoto looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes as tears started sliding down from the corners.

"Please, Ranma."

Damn it.

~o~

"Goddamnit, boy!"

"Just…just shut up, Pops."

"Ranma, Ranma, this is fun!

And that was how Ranma absconded with the Emperor.


	9. Chapter 9

Two individuals stood within the office. They were Prime Minister honest and General Esdeath. The former wasn't eating anything this time, but he was biting savagely down on the sleeve of his overcoat. The stress was almost unbearable.

"I'm sure you heard you've been informed by now, Esdeath."

"The Emperor had been kidnapped."

"Word of this must not get out. Jaeger's first mission is the retrieval of the Emperor. Alive," Honest said, releasing his sleeve from his mouth. "Failure is not an option."

They both knew the price of failure for this. The fact that the Empire would be shaken to the core mattered little to him. However, without the Emperor, support for Honest would collapse. There would be no future without the child Emperor.

For either of them.

"And what about those two?"

"Kill them both. Turn them into bee hives or make them into ribbons, I don't care! Those ungrateful fools betrayed me!"

"You'll owe me for this."

"Take what you want, but get the child back. Without him, we've nothing," Honest said. "Leave the Three Beasts here. If Budo finds out about this, he'll come for my head. Those three are competent enough commanders that they can hold his armies back until you retrieve the Emperor."

Esdeath nodded.

"Do not take too long. Use your Teigu to put an end to this swiftly."

~o~

"What did I say about not telling anybody important, boy?"

"Shut up, Pops. You asked that twenty times already."

"And you ignored me twenty times."

The Saotomes sprinted toward the forest, each carrying a backpack filled with their survival gear and more than a few pieces of jewelry. Sitting on top of Genma's pack and shoulder, his legs hanging down the front and his arms wrapped around the man's forehead like a bandanna, was Emperor Makoto.

"Why aren't you carrying him, boy?"

"That's 'cause I'm the one who's gotta fight off any pursuers we get."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Say what you want, Pops, but I'm not leaving him behind."

"This is lunacy, boy."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm a bit crazy right now." Ranma said. "But it's not like it's any worse than one of your ideas."

"You don't think kidnapping royalty is worse?"

"It's not kidnapping. He wanted to come with us."

Makoto nodded enthusiastically at that, though he didn't trust himself to speak because he was still in awe of the outside world. He had never been out of the capital in his entire life so this was really exciting!

"That doesn't change the facts, boy," Genma said. "But I don't suppose it matters now. What's done is done. We'll just have to deal with it, like we always have."

Ranma nodded. It was a familiar statement, one that Genma said before when he stole from dojos, temples, or shrines. He was just glad that it was used for his sake this time.

The trio made their way past the tree line and into the shade of the forest.

~o~

Run flew high in the sky on the wings of his Teigu, Mastema. This was his first assignment as a Jaeger, and it was essential that he didn't fail this. This was only the first step on his path to change the Empire from the inside, and that would be impossible to do so if he failed now. As he flew beneath the noon's sun, he scanned the ground far below for his targets.

Normally, it would be a little more difficult to find such people, but they had distinctive appearances: a portly man in a white gi, a pigtailed male (or female) in a red shirt and black pants, and Emperor Makoto in sufficiently regal clothes. He had been searching from the skies for hours while the rest of Jaegers had split up to do their searches on the ground level. He had heard about their stealth skills, but as long as the Emperor was with them, he was told that it was unlikely they could utilize it. It shouldn't be too—

And there they were.

Flying under the clear skies, Run watched as his targets entering the forest at breakneck speed. If he hadn't been paying attention, he would have missed them entirely. He took out a flare gun. Aiming it, he shot its tube ammunition straight upward. It flew a fair distance before it exploded into a green light. That bright, flashing light slowly floated downward.

His allies should converge on this location soon. It was too bad for him that it was in a forest; that practically negated any advantage his Teigu had. He couldn't very well fly in the forest, so it looked like he would have to stay out of this battle. He would keep watch over the tree line around the entire forest to make sure that he would see them if they tried to make their escape.

He just hoped the others would be able to handle it by themselves.

~o~

Dr. Stylish frowned as he watched the green flare drift down in the sky from far away. It was barely a speck to him, and he would never have spotted it in the first place without the help of Me, his minion whose eyes he had greatly enhanced through his experiments.

He had the largest amount of underlings under his command, considering that everyone else in the Jaegers had none, so he had been assigned to search further away from the rest, just in case they made it this far out. That had been a mistake. Even without his genius intellect, he would known that it was impossible to travel there within a reasonable amount of time.

It was just too far.

Still, some of his army was made for speed. They could make the journey in time when he could not.

"Find the Emperor," Dr. Stylish said. "Go."

Numerous forms flashed by him, like a river of flesh and mal intent.

~o~

The moment Bols saw the forest, he shook his masked head. He lowered his flamethrower Teigu that was connected by a hose to a fuel tank on his back. It looked like he was going to have to sit this one out. Rubicante could easily set fire to the entire forest, but there was a risk that the Emperor or his comrades would touch the flames. There was no way to stop the flames except to let it die out on its own so that option was out.

His skills with hand to hand combat were sufficient for criminals and Danger Beasts, but he had heard about the skills of his targets. Without the weapons of his trade, he would be a liability that could get the whole team killed. There was a chance that Esdeath would be angry at his decision, but this was his judgment as a soldier.

He would take any punishment that came his way. At least, this way, he wouldn't endanger the lives of his comrades, directly or indirectly. Even though he had only met them for the first time a while ago, he trusted them to handle the rest.

~o~

"You feel that, boy?" They were running through the forest at normal people would breakneck speed. For them, however, it was more of a mild sprint.

"Yeah, Pops. Three behind, one in front." Ranma could feel their presences flood into the forest. Three were coming from behind, each steadily getting closer from three different directions, like the points of a trident. The one in front had come from another angle and had circled around at a far faster speed than the rest to cut them off. Whoever these people were, it wasn't likely that they could outrun them.

"This is because of me, isn't it?" Makoto, seated as he was on Genma's shoulders, bit his lip in worry.

"Don't worry about it. I can handle them." Ranma flashed him a confident smile before he turned to Genma. "I'm gonna take the guys behind us. You can handle the one in front, Pops?"

"Don't underestimate me, boy. Just because I'm getting older doesn't mean I can't fight," Genma said. "We'll head to the town we went to before near the eastern border of Belarus."

"Alright, keep Makoto safe. I'll be back soon." Ranma broke off from them and ran back the way they came.

Genma continued forward with Makoto on his back. He could feel the presence in the front coming closer and closer.

A massive, pot-belly creature landed onto their path, sending a shockwave rippling through the ground as dirt and plants went flying into the air. It roared, shattering the surrounding trees with the intense wave of sound generated from it.

Genma leaped back in that instant, his feet skidding along the dirt.

Seryu jumped off the back of Koro, landing lightly on her feet. She looked down at a radar monitor that was in—no, that was his right hand. It was a motion detector that had several blinking dots on it. It looked like they were the only ones here while the other villain was heading for her allies. She looked up at last, confident in her victory.

"Unhand the Emperor and face justice, you vile criminal!" Seryu held out her arm to the living Teigu. The beast bit down on her arm and ripped it off, leaving a giant anti-tank rifle in its wake. It was a massive rifle that dwarfed even the length of her body, so much so that it should have been impossible to hold it, much less actually use it. In spite of that, she swung it forward and aimed at Genma's leg as if it was no different than moving a flesh arm.

Genma quirked an eyebrow. This was odd; the girl was aiming at his feet. Why wasn't she aiming at his center of mass—where it would be much easier to hit him—unless...

He crouched down. His opponent aimed lower.

Genma took Makoto off his back and held him in front of him, holding him from under his armpits. Seryu immediately pointed her rifle away. He smirked. So she was trying to not hit the little boy in the crossfire.

"You fiend! Using the innocent as a hostage!"

"Do you mind?" Genma asked his 'hostage'.

"Not really," Makoto said.

Seryu seethed with anger. She had enough. Raising her huge rifle of an arm, she adjusted her sights so that it would be on chest shot on Genma even though the Emperor was currently in the way.

"I was going to give you a quick death, but an evil like you doesn't deserve such kindness. After I bring you in, I'll rip you apart piece by piece. And then after you're almost dead, I'm going to find everyone who you were friends with and kill them in front of you. Then, for the last part, I'm going to take your son and break him so much that you're going to be begging me to kill him. Only then will I allow someone as evil as you perish."

A shadow fell over Genma's face as he put Makoto back onto his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes dangerously. The worse part of the tirade wasn't the words itself. Threats like that tended to be just empty banter between warriors. No, it was the fact that he could tell that she meant every word that she was saying. Still, if it was something like that, he wouldn't mind so much, but there was something more to it.

"Girl, step back from the path you're walking. The life you're destroying is your own. You still have time to save yourself."

"I won't listen to idle threats from evil."

"This isn't a threat, girl. The more you walk it, the more you'll lose yourself." He had seen this before. On the warzones and in the warrior villages, there were always those that suffered tragedy and turned themselves into weapons. Hollow lives that lived for one thing, but those fleeting sense of purpose would gradually lose sway. In the end, that would become the origin of demons.

Eventually, the double-edged sword would bite backwards until there was none left to use it.

"Lies and slander. All evil like you must be exterminated!"

For a sword could never shatter itself.

Genma held back his sigh. She was already too far gone. There was no reasoning or helping the girl. She had to be put down, not just for his sake, but for her own. A life like that was no life at all.

"Makoto, close your eyes."

Makoto obediently put his hands over his eyes, but he spread his fingers so he could see through the slits. Of course, Genma couldn't see this so he began his attack.

"Ultimate Demon God Assault Bomb!" Genma swung his arms out to the sides, as if to grandiosely throw open the royal doors of a palace.

For a second there, Seryu saw flashes of light. Too many to count, but it was disappeared soon after.

Koro roared and took a step forward, except that its upper body didn't follow. A neat line had bisected the beast from front to back. As it slid off, the rest of its body separated like salami. Even its core had been sliced completely through.

"K-Koro? You can't be…" Seryu took an unsteady step toward her former Teigu and reached out. "It's not true, right, Koro?"

Her hand fell off. The moment it touched the ground, it separated into several pieces. Seryu looked down in confusion.

"Huh?"

That was the only word she managed to say before she fell apart.

The forest was completely silent except for the very distant sound of combat.

Genma stared down in disgust. In the end, the girl was more machine than flesh.

"You looked, didn't you?" Genma asked.

"Yes." Makoto's voice was quiet, but the older man heard it just fine. "That was amazing."

"No, it wasn't," Genma said. "Burn it into your eyes, Makoto. Only wield the intent to kill if you're ready to be killed. This was not a fight, and this was not an art. This was an execution."

"I don't understand."

"You will someday," Genma said before he tensed.

Several humans parted from the shadows, each wearing an animal mask and wearing only shorts and bikinis. However, any desire that could have formed died the moment one looked at their skin. Pale and stitched together, like the pieces stuck together on an old, torn teddy bear. Each wielded a weapon of some kind, though their stances were all over the place, some even walking sideways in an inhuman way.

Genma narrowed his eyes. They had no presence, as if they were ghosts. Was this what it felt like to be on the opposite side of the Umisenken? No, this was different. It wasn't simply suppression of their life force.

They were like walking corpses.

More came out of the shadows with even some appearing on the branches high above them.

"Hang on tight, brat." Genma raised his fists, tensing the muscles in his arms. This was going to be a rough fight.

The men and women of Team Stylish converged on the two like a sea of flesh and blades.

~o~

Wave had already formed his armor, allowing the Teigu to boost his speed to supernatural levels. His feet were a blur as he rushed into the forest, determined to do one thing: to stop the kidnappers and save the Emperor. The trees proved to be no difficulty as he weaved around the trunks and simply ran through any low-hanging branches. His armor, Grand Chariot, protected him from head to toe, making it simple breakthrough without using any sort of finesse. That cut down the travel time significantly.

After all, time was of the essence. The longer he delayed, the more time it gave the kidnappers to get away. He wouldn't forgive himself if the Emperor got hurt because of him. That was tantamount to betraying the people who believed in him. He couldn't let that happen.

An arm stuck out from behind a tree trunk, creating a clothesline that crashed into his neck. Armored as he was from head to toe, the impact wasn't as bad, but the abrupt stop shot his feet out from under him, flipping him down on his back. Even as he coughed and sputtered, he rolled to the side, avoiding a stomp. He quickly rose to his feet.

Ranma stood across from him, looking nonchalant.

"Looks you got the same thing like that Bulat guy had."

"Where's the Emperor?"

"Sorry, I don't got much time to play around." Ranma charged and performed a snap kick.

It was only through the speed of his Teigu that Wave was able to cross his arms in time, absorbing the tremendous force behind the kick. Even then, his feet skidded a little across the dirt floor of the forest.

However, Ranma was already up in front of Wave. The pigtailed martial artist struck out with a vicious right hook that rattled the Jaeger's brain. Wave was quick to retaliate, throwing out his arm, but Ranma ducked under and smashed his fist into the armored man's abdomen.

However, Wave tanked the blow with a grunt and grabbed the pigtailed boy'sshoulder. He kneed him in the stomach, putting as much force as he could into the blow.

Ranma escaped from the man's hold and sprung away, but the damage had already been done. He winced slightly as he felt the impact zone. He hadn't been expecting that. His opponent, on the other hand, looked relatively fine despite the strikes he landed on him.

"Looks like that armor is pretty tough," Ranma said. "But don't worry, I got a can opener with your name on it."

"Where's the Emperor?" Wave readied his stance, raising his fists. "I won't ask again."

"You won't need to. Demon God Assault Bomb!" Ranma swung his arms outward, creating vacuums of air that sped forward.

Caught off guard, Wave tried to evade, but one of the sharp blades of air caught him in the side, slicing through even his armor with an ease that should have been impossible. A sizeable cut opened up on his left side. He covered the wound with his hand, grimacing under his helmet.

Ranma quickly closed to the distance and slipped in to the side. He punched the armored hand covering the wound several dozen times in the span of a second. When he was done, the armored hand had slipped entirely into the wound.

Wave screamed as pain wracked his body. Even through his armor, he could feel his intestines under his fingers. Without any consideration, he ripped his hand out. Unfortunately, the exiting was far more brutal than the entering, tearing open a much larger gap that made his vision go white for a moment. He fell back a few steps, gasping in agony while clutching at the wound.

Ranma struck out with a powerful kick that smashed into Wave's injured side, sending the armored man crashing through several trees. Excruciating pain flooded Wave's senses just before he finally smashed into the ground and sunk into blissful unconsciousness.

Kurome leapt off of a tree branch high above Ranma, her katana already in mid-stroke, but the pigtailed martial artist slipped off to the side, neatly evading the downward slash. Ranma lashed out a kick, but Kurome had already backpedaled out of range. The black-haired assassin held up the katana, Yatsufusa, and activated its ability.

From empty air, her corpse puppets appeared by her side.

Natala, her friend and assassin who was skilled with using a spear.

Doya, the pistol dual-wielder from the Northern Tribes.

Woll, the shield-using guardsman.

Hentarr, the Northern Tribesman who uses a knife.

Rokgough, the general who was a whip-user.

These five formed the core of her fighting force. She would have liked to have used her ultra-class Danger Beasts as well, but their huge size made them impossible to utilize within the confines of a forest. Still, this was more than enough to deal with the threat.

Except said threat wasn't standing there anymore.

Ranma was in between all five of her puppets. His left fist caved in Woll's frontal lobe entirely and his right backhand spun Rokgough's head to an unnatural angle while his foot had caught Hentarr's neck, snapping the vertebrae and dislodging his skull. The remaining two lashed out with their weapons, but Ranma had hopped back out of range.

He had attacked viciously and brutally because he had felt it the moment they had came into being. It was one that he felt before. Back when he had took the axe from the axe-wielder back when he was saving Chouri and his daughter, he had felt the malignant ki from the weapon. These beings were composed completely out of that ki, though this had a more powerful and violent feel to it. Each of them had a small, thin trail of ki that connect them back to Kurome's katana. He had thought they were illusions until the moment that he touched them. They had felt solid under his fists and feet, and not the type of solid that came from a ki puppet.

It felt real.

The feeling of bone freaking and flesh parting made him feel hesitant.

"What are these things?"

Kurome didn't respond. Instead, she took out a syringe filled with a green, viscous liquid and jammed it into her thigh. A dazed expression appeared on her face as her ki output increase drastically, pouring more power into her remaining puppets. Then something spiked from the center of each, as if shouting out in pain. The closer that he looked, the more he could see in the black mud was a core of ki that was different from the rest.

He looked at the three that he defeated. They were already disappearing, the ki moving from their bodies and returning back to Kurome's sword by the ki trail. That core, however, was dissipating altogether. He felt a chill down his spine as he finally figured out what they were.

The core was made of life energy, each casting a different presence that made them entirely unique from one another.

There was only one way to have such a vast difference.

That was by being born with it.

"These were once people, weren't they?"

Gunshots rang out in response as Ranma evaded them. Doya circled around to the side, her pistols continuously blaring out an endless chorus. Natala circled around on the other side to complete the entrapment, his spear held loftily in his right hand. This would have been the correct tactic, if he had been aiming for Kurome.

Ranma slipped inside Doya's guard even as the Northern Tribes woman refocused and brought down her pistols to bear. He swung out his hands, letting sharp blades of air loose from his arms. They tore into Doya's shoulders, ripping her arms off and sending them spinning into the air. He hopped up, landing on the girl's head as Natala rammed into where he once was, piercing his spear through Doya's chest.

Natala swung his spear upward, unmindful of the fact that Doya's body was hanging off the shaft like a shish kabob. Ranma jumped off the body and into the air. Natala aimed and extended his spear far beyond its normal length to stab, but Ranma spun his body in mid-air and grabbed the shaft. He flipped over, landing his feet on the shaft and ran down the length. Upon reaching the end, he lashed out his foot at the puppet's head like he was kicking a ball. Natala's head snapped backwards until it was almost upside down. The puppet collapsed its knees. Ranma hopped off and landed on the dirt. He faced Kurome once again with a look of disgust.

"I don't like people using the dead," Ranma said.

Rage, despair, and fear ran through Kurome all at once. It seemed like it was only an instant, but it was all gone. The warriors who protected her were shattered. Doya, Woll, Hentarr, Rokgough were broken. The friend that she kept close by her side was gone. Natala was gone.

"Raahhhhhhh!" Kurome screamed in rage as she rushed forward, swinging her katana with wild abandon. A fist to her solar plexus quickly put an end to that fury. Like a puppet with her strings cut, she fell forward limply, her katana slipping out of her grip.

Ranma looked down at the unconscious form and the sword. He stomped on the blade of the katana, shattering it. He really didn't like people who used the dead like that.

Ranma ducked behind a tree as a quartet of ice needles stabbed into the trunk. Bark splintered at the impact, the needles penetrating mercilessly deep into the tree. He pressed his back against the tree and reached out his senses. There was an intense killing intent, and it was making its way toward his position at a slow pace.

Whoever it was, that person was walking. He tiled his head and peeked out. A split second later, he pulled himself back as an icicle flew by, nearly shaving the side of his face off.

The moment Esdeath had stepped onto the aftermath of the battlefield, she knew what had happened.

"You both did well to stall him." Her eyes were sad as she looked on the downed form of Wave and Kurome. She wanted to attend to them, but the mission came first. "Wait for me. I won't be long."

She walked past the scene.

"Ranma Saotome." Her feminine voice had an authority that carried across the suddenly silent forest. "You were to be the first slated to join the Jaegers, but now, you're the first to be hunted by us."

Ranma didn't bother to respond as he killed his presence. When his aura faded, he began climbing the tree like a lizard.

"Empress of the Empire is not a bad position. Anything could've been yours just by asking for it. Why did you throw that away?"

From higher up on the tree, crouching low on a tree branch, Ranma observed his opponent for the first time. A woman wearing a military uniform—without an undershirt, prominently displaying her abundant chest—and a skirt that emphasized her long legs came out of the shadows of the trees, walking calmly as if there was nothing to worry about at all. On top of her light blue hair was a military cap that created a shadow over cold, sapphire eyes that roved the area, searching for her target.

"The wish of the strong is to fight worthy battles. The weak only serves as stepping stones for the ones above them."

Ranma couldn't let that comment slide. He cupped his mouth and turned to a different direction to throw off his voice. "The duty of a martial artist is to protect the weak."

"That's an ideal that can only be enforced by the strong. It is still the survival of the strongest. The one on top dictates the rules." Esdeath walked up to the tree that Ranma was hiding on top of.

"You don't need to be a fighter to be strong. Not from where I come from. There's strength in the weak that you don't seem to be able to see."

"It's a pity our ideals don't match up. Still, someone as strong as you...It's a waste if you die here," Esdeath said. "Come serve me. I'll protect you from the out lash from this incident. My name alone can shield you from it all."

"No offense, but even Kuno had better speeches than you."

"I assume your answer is no."

"You got that right," Ranma said. "Ain't no way I'm going back to that city."

"My name is Esdeath. I'm sure you heard of me before so you should know that you can't win." To emphasize her point, Esdeath placed her palm against a tree. Ice flowed out of her skin like water, encompassing the trunk of the tree within its white embrace. It had only taken a couple of seconds, but by the time she removed her hand, the entirety of the trunk was frozen solid. That only lasted for a few more moments before the frozen trunk cracked and splintered, unable to support the weight from the rest of the tree. The top half went tumbling down, crashing loudly on the forest floor.

Ranma leaped to the next tree over, though his eyes widened when he looked at the point of the breakage on the broken tree. It was frozen to the core, even though it was solid wood. He frowned. Was that even possible? Well, even if he actually knew any of the science mumbo-jumbo behind it to say if it was impossible or not, it wouldn't matter. Plausible or not, there was no arguing the fact that it was real.

He never did get around to figuring out a counter to Budo's lightning, but at least now, he knew why it had taken him out of the fight. If the electricity could reach that deep, then it probably interfered with electric signals that his body was receiving from his brain. If Budo had gone further, he could have probably shut down all functions of his body entirely.

Still, out of that showing, he had found out something just as good.

The ki in the ice gradually dispersed, flowing out of it more and more by the second. The ki that inhabited the ice that froze the tree's broken section was already almost gone. It wasn't at all well-contained like a weapon Teigu, using copious amounts of power. To keep that going required probably took a lot from her, but in that same vein, the large amount that she was using made it easier for him to detect.

"Will you reconsider?"

"Nice show, but I think you're barking up the wrong tree."

Esdeath smiled, completely ignoring the pun. Despite herself, she was becoming more and more excited as the prospect of battle loomed closer and closer. She raised her hands, collecting and condensing the power of her Teigu into her fingertips. "I see. It's a pity, but I'll have you die here."

Ranma felt it before he saw it. He dived to the forest floor before he even consciously realized it. A rolling wave of ice had smashed into the spot he was previously at, shattering the tree apart. The moment that he landed on his feet, he was already running, weaving through the trees as showers of icicles followed his path. Esdeath was hot on his trail, nearly matching his pace even as she continued to throw out more and more ice attacks.

The trees that Ranma used as shields during his run were broken apart and shattered before the onslaught of ice. While he could sense the malevolent ki from the ice attacks, allowing him to evade a good number of them, the sheer number and deadly accuracy tested the limits of his concentration. He was on the defensive and if he didn't turn that around, he would be stuck like this until Esdeath got a lucky shot off. That wasn't something he was going to allow. Even as he ducked under a fist-sized icicle that had pierced straight through a tree trunk, he gathered his ki.

Ranma swung his arms out, sending a trio of vacuum blades flying toward his opponent. Even as it flew, he chased after the blades of air. Esdeath formed an ice shield in front of her with several layers, protecting her from the vacuum blades that could do nothing more than carve deep grooves in the ice. That was fine. He never intended for it to hit; it was done to block her view of him. Closing the distance, he leapt over the ice wall and landed behind Esdeath. The moment that he touched the ground, he spun around with a roundhouse kick.

Esdeath crossed her arms, blocking the kick with her forearms. However, the impact was harsh enough that it made her bones creak under the pressure. From deep within her, her Teigu stirred and manifested.

Ranma hopped away from her the moment he felt the ki build-up, and not a moment too soon as spikes of ice speared out from her still form. His feet skidded along the ground, pushing up a trail of dirt, but he launched himself forward the instant that he could. Every moment counted. He didn't even need to look up as he felt a mass of dark ki coalesce in the skies above. Putting on a last burst of speed, he barely outran the giant glacier that smashed into the floor behind him, sending tremors through the earth as well as a sheet of dirt into the air.

The pigtailed martial artist smashed into her guard with an aerial spin kick. Esdeath shifted her arms to grab the offending leg, but Ranma had already pushed off. Landing lightly on the ball of his feet, he ducked low to avoid a retaliatory kick and launched a fist at her solar plexus.

Esdeath quickly moved her hand over her front and formed a block of ice. It was shattered by the impact of his fist, but his attack had been stopped. She touched the ground beneath her, sending her ice powers flowing under the area. The spot below Ranma exploded as a giant spire of ice shot out of the dirt to impale him.

The moment that Ranma had felt the malevolent ki underneath him, he jumped high into the air and not a moment too soon. He landed on the giant, slanted spire that sprouted out of the ground. He had a smug grin as he held out a knife hand, palm up, before curling and uncurling his fingers in a come hither motion. His opponent was happy to oblige.

Esdeath was already running up the spire, her fingers gripped around the hilt of her rapier. In a single motion, she whipped it out and stabbed it forward. She only needed one hit, one solid stabbing in order to channel all her power through the blade and freeze him from inside out. Her enemy easily sidestepped it, but that wasn't the end of it. Her blade stabbed forward rapidly and repeatedly, pockmarking the ice as her pigtailed opponent ducked and weaved around her blade. They danced across the surface of the spire, even as it started to break down.

"Don't you ever run out?" Ranma redirected the rapier with a pushing of his hand and ducked under a summoned ice needle. He moved to push against the weapon again, but she twisted the rapier, showing the bladed side and forcing him to pull back his hand.

"You're a worthy opponent," Esdeath commented with a smile as she brought her rapier around. Before she could finish the motion, the spire cracked down the center and broke apart, forcing her to leap away lest she fall with the crumbling platform. She bounced a few times along the ground before she could fully stop her momentum.

As she gazed over the ice-covered battlefield, she noticed a mist had sprung up from all the crumbling and melting ice. It obscured her view of her opponent, and worse, it seemed like he was using that stealth technique so she couldn't sense him. Normally, she would have simply showered the entire area with ice, but she had already expended a lot of energy on this fight, and Ranma wasn't an enemy to be underestimated like that. He had already dodged all of the ice attacks that she had thrown at him, somehow doing what none other had done before.

It was exciting. It made her blood run passionately through her veins. However, she was still calm and in control, her icy demeanor a match for her Teigu. It was something that was necessary for the strongest to—

A fist raced out of the obscuring mist and smashed upward into her chin. It took a moment for her to comprehend that she had been thrown airborne from an uppercut, but by then, she had other matters to contend with. Namely, the smug-looking martial artist also in the air in front of her.

"Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire!" Just as his fists began to blur, an ice wall sprang up in between them. His punches shattered it, but more ice walls appeared, each one behind the previous. He struck relentlessly while Esdeath created endlessly. By the time they separated, landing on the ground opposite each other, the broken fragments of ice had piled up over the battlefield like a field of diamonds.

By the time it was over, their clothes were shredded, and they were both bleeding from more spots than they could count, but they were smiling. Silence reigned as they assessed one another, both waiting for the other to restart the conflict in earnest.

Ranma glanced slightly to the side as something came out of the darkness of the forest. A wooden sign spiraled through the air, spinning several revolutions before it hit the ground, the carved end of the wood stabbing into the dirt. Ranma took one look at it and the message it contained, before he shattered the sign with a kick.

Esdeath stared at the scene with amusement as ice needles formed around her. However, she couldn't launch them as a single attack; it would never hit. She needed to create a combination of attacks that he couldn't dodge. Across from her, Ranma gathered his ki between his palms.

"Moko Takabisha!" Instead of aiming for Esdeath, the ki blast hit a particularly large pile of fragments and exploded, propelling the shards in every direction.

Esdeath was caught off guard, but her experience on the battlefield made the use of an ice wall instinctive. Several layers sprung up, shielding her from the blunt of the attack, but a blade of ice had still gotten through and scratched a bloody line across her cheek. She ran a finger along the wound and brought it to her lips, tasting the blood. It was getting more and more interesting. The ice wall fell apart as she walked forward, ready to unleash her might upon this most worthy of foes.

Except that she found that Ranma had already tripled the distance between them.

Giving his opponent a mocking salute, Ranma dashed away deeper into the forest.

"Running? You can't escape me." It wasn't a comment. To her, it was a statement, a fact. Esdeath sped across the distance, her ice needles shooting ahead of her to slow down the pigtailed martial artist.

Ranma kept ahead of her. This time, he wasn't bothering to weave through the trees. He was simply outrunning the ice needles by moving along the forest floor, leaping onto branches, and bouncing off of tree trunks.

Esdeath was hot on his trail, slowly catching up as she forced the martial artist to dodge the ice needles. She had to give respect to him; he was one of the few that could keep her entertained. Still, she needed to end this quickly. She had already taken too long, and she still needed to torture the information on the Emperor's location out of him. She fed a burst of speed into her run, advancing on the escaping martial artist.

A wooden sign swung out from behind a tree, catching her fully in the face. The sign shattered, the bark splintering off in every direction. She arched her back from the impact as her feet slipped from under her. The moment she hit the ground, she grasped at her face, her thoughts scrambled as her brain tried to stop from vibrating in her skull.

Genma stepped out from behind the tree and tossed away the broken stick. On top of his shoulders, Makoto was staring wide-eyes and a gaping mouth at the scene. For the rotund martial artist, it was tempting to use this as a chance to knock her into unconsciousness, but he turned his back on the chance. He had seen what Budo could do on his last leg, so he wasn't willing to risk it. Besides, he needed to catch up with his son. He ran off deeper into the forest while Makoto held onto him.

Esdeath gritted her teeth as she pushed herself to her feet. Blood dripped down her forehead, and she glared angrily in the direction they left even though her vision swam. The moment that the two trees in her sight aligned to become one, she was off her feet and in pursuit. Her feet rampaged across the moist dirt, no longer possessing the grace and elegance that she was known for. There was only her determination.

As she ran through the forest, she spotted their form far ahead, approaching the end of the forest. She couldn't let them escape. They disappeared into the light at the end of the tree line, but it was only a matter of moments before she caught up. She reached the end and entered into sun's embrace.

Esdeath stamped her high-heel shoes hard across the hardened dirt, skidding to a stop at the cliff's edge. Below her was a long cliff side that stretched ten stories and ended on craggy rock formations above a calm sea. Looking all around, she saw no sign of them. Even if they had jumped, it was such a distance that she would have at least seen them just before they hit the waters below.

She looked down at the ground. Their footprints disappeared just a few feet before the exit, and there was no sign that they had taken to the tree branches.

They were gone.

She started laughing.

At the end of it all, there was only laughter.

~o~

"I don't see any sign of her, boy."

"I guess she's not following us anymore, Pops."

Genma and Ranma Saotome raced across the grassy plain. They glanced back occasionally at the tree line, but there was no sign of their pursuer. They headed North, since there was a small, rural town a few miles that way where they could gets some supplies before they would start their long journey to the East.

"Ranma, where are we going?" Makoto asked from his spot on Genma's shoulder. He was smiling as he stared all around him with wonder.

"Gonna to get some supplies and get you some new clothes," Ranma said.

"New clothes?"

"Yeah, you stick out like a sore thumb with all that jewelry. We'll need you to blend in so we don't get price-gouged. And that's not even mentioning bandits and thieves."

"And where will we go after that?"

"The place where we were born," Ranma said with a smile as they ran. "It's far to the east, across a sea."

"What's it called?"

"Japan."

~o~

Author's Note: One more to go. I wasn't particularly satisfied with this chapter, but it will have to do. I spent an entire week on it so it's already been too long.


	10. Epilogue

Sten stared out at the Kouken Temple, perhaps for the last time. The fall of Prime Minister Honest several months ago, to whom the temple had pledged their support to, meant the end for the Rakshasa Demons as well. Officially, the reason was that forcing children to continuously drink from the lake was considered inhumane since only a few in every batch of children actually attain a viable body. The rest are left to survive on their own with their various mutations. For that reason, many peasant workers were now within the temple, taking it down piece of piece. Standing about were numerous generals of high rank, enough to lay waste to the entire congregation of practitioners. Those of the Rakshasa Demons that violently objected were put down with extreme prejudice.

Whether it was from a foolish sense of compassion or a master plan, the former inhabitants of the temple were being spared despite their high martial abilities. They were not even forcefully recruited into this new fledgling government. However, as he stood there among his flock, he could not smile.

No future Rakshasa Demon could ever be born without living off the waters of the lake, and it would be guarded for generations to come, perhaps even poisoned. It didn't matter, though. Their temple could only survive here. Even if they were to steal the water every day, they still wouldn't be able to get enough fresh water to sustain the young ones long enough to fully morph their bodies and bring out their potential. The only way to do so was by living here, next to the lake. That was now an impossibility.

This was truly the end.

"There's no point in watching this." Sten turned his back on the temple that had served as his home for his entire life.

"Where will we go?" The question came from a nameless voice within the crowd of lost souls. Sten only spared them a single glance.

"To wherever you wish."

~o~

Najenda walked through the bustling marketplace of the Imperial Capital, watching as the citizens bustled about their business. The place was starting to regain a bit of normalcy, especially after the months of the chaotic aftermath. Here and there, she could even spot traders from the Western countries and the Northern Tribes, eager to tap the new open market that the country was now employing.

"Najenda, try some of my fruit. It's essentially ripe today."

"Oh, if it isn't Najenda. Come, come. Try some of my cookies."

"It's big sis, it's big sis. Hey, big sis!"

Najenda waved back at them, though she didn't stop walking.

The thing that she noticed the most was the smiles that were on people's faces, a sight that was a lot rarer in the years previous. The wound that the nation had suffered was slowly being healed, though it would still bear the scar for generations to come. With time, even this bad memory would fade from the world, but she hoped that the lesson never would.

It had been a year since the Emperor had been kidnapped. After news of the Emperor's abduction came to light, the support base for the Prime Minister began to collapse. They had followed behind Honest because he had the unconditional backing of the Emperor. Without the Emperor, splintering and infighting soon broke out. It started slow, but as they saw everyone leaving, others began to leave as well. That soon turned into a tide.

In the midst of it all, the Revolutionary Army mobilized. With the Prime Minister's sinking power, there was barely any resistance, and they took over the capital within a month's time. Most of the remaining Generals and their forces surrendered before a battle could even break out. There was a token resistance, much of it from Grand General Budo, but they were quickly put down by both the size and unity of the Revolution Army.

Honest, knowing that the end was coming when the Night Raid breached the palace's defenses during the invasion, killed himself. It was an ending that left most in the rebellion and the victimized citizens of the nation dissatisfied, but there was nothing that could be done on that end. Since then, much had changed.

When Emperor Makoto had taken the throne, Prime Minister Honest had taken the time to thoroughly wipe out any that were even suspected of having royal blood. That left none that could legitimately take up the throne. Furthermore, the recent tyrannical reign had left a bad taste in the mouths of the populace. To that end, they reformed the Empire and established a council to govern the nation, with its representatives chosen through democratic voting in order to ensure that no one like Prime Minister Honest could come into power. Or at least, not as openly.

There were a number of checks and balances now in place to tie the offices to the populace, but even then, it was experimental in nature. It was more of a republic now than a monarchy. Whether it worked or not would be telling in the years to come.

Najenda sat down heavily on a bench and stared up at the noon's sun. It was a hot day, but she didn't mind it. After being stuck in the dark for years after her induction to the position of leader of Night Raid, it was a welcomed prospect to finally be able to walk in the capital in the daytime.

Her mechanical left arm ached with a phantom itch, a reminder that she would never be able to get revenge for the loss of her arm. It was a fanciful wish, one that would be excruciatingly difficult to succeed in even if Esdeath was still here. Though it was an idle thought, really. She had long given up on the thought of revenge even before the invasion was carried out. Esdeath was an opponent far too difficult for such pettiness.

In the aftermath, Esdeath managed to escape. After forcing her own army to lay down their arms in exchange for a pardon, she escaped to the Eastern islands with her Three Beasts. It was reasonable why. The soldiers had family in the country so by doing this, it freed most of them of their obligation. Their legendary strength was necessary in the recovering Empire so the deal was taken without hesitation. And besides, she wouldn't be able to take a land-based army to where she was going.

Where did she go? That would be Eastern Sea. It was a very strategic decision. Any pursuit, even with a fleet, would end in failure. All it would take was a glacier to break a ship apart, and that wasn't even accounting for Liver's control over the water. It was a deathtrap that not many were willing to risk. Last that she heard, Esdeath had backed one of the island nations and started a naval war against the other islands…

~o~

Esdeath stood on the deck of the ship. Standing behind her were the Three Beasts: Liver, Daidara, and Nyau. They stood still with their arms resting behind their backs even as the sailors frantically ran about the ship, making sure that everything was ready.

Besides their ship was a fleet of ships, all under her command. Each was in the midst of last minute preparation for the battle ahead. They were each waiting anxiously for the command to attack.

Across from their ships was an armada that outnumbered theirs five to one. They were the combined fleets of several island nations, all determined to stop her rampage. The islands that she had violated in her campaign had brought about such a response.

In the face of this overwhelming number, there was not a sailor who wasn't stricken by fear. Yet, in spite of that, they wore their resolution on their faces. Harsh and deadly training had shaped them, and the victories that they had gained, one after the other, had carved them into warriors. For the one that trained them and showed them these victories, they were utterly loyal to her. The strength, valor, and compassion of their commander raised their morale to the highest they had ever felt. The indulgences that she allowed drove them forward with eagerness. In her name, they would slaughter and rape the islands with impunity. With her at the helm, they would do no less.

For she was the Goddess of Victory who came to them, wielding the strange power from the Western Continent that escaped their understanding. To the other nations, she was a western barbarian, a devil that sought to destroy them all. To them, she was their savior. For through her, the East would finally be conquered in its entirety and set under one reign.

Esdeath stepped forward until she reached the bow of the ship, putting her hand on the hilt of her sword. Sliding the rapier out of the ornate sheath, she swung it until the sharp point was aiming straight at the center of the enemy armada.

"Is this the best they could do?"

From there, the sailors under her command watched as the Goddess worked her magic. The powers of her Teigu seeped out of the edge of her sword and down into the water below. The sea in front of the fleet began to freeze, the waves on the top layer of the ocean becoming icy statues.

"Liver."

"As you command, Lady Esdeath." The older gentleman stepped forward and held out his gloved hands. The white layer of ice sitting on top of the sea broke apart, splitting into smaller, jagged pieces. Sweeping out his arms, he sent waves of water splashing forward at high speeds, sending the hundreds upon hundreds of icebergs rushing towards the enemy fleet. Liver smirked. These islanders were not used to the frigid dangers of the winter North, so they were not aware of the dangers that these little pieces of ice posed. Truly, a masterful tactics from the one he served.

"Forward. We'll destroy any remnant that remains," Esdeath said. The command was heeded as the sailors went to work. The ship heaved forward, following in the wake of the icebergs. A flag was raised, sending forth the command to the rest of the fleet. They began in earnest as well, like sharks at the first sign of blood.

It wasn't long before the wave of icebergs struck the frontlines of the enemy's armada, tearing gaping wounds into their undersides. Water flooded into their ships even as Esdeath's fleet came upon them.

On the bow of the ship, Esdeath smiled. It was time to begin. This was only the first step. No matter where he hid himself, she would find him. Even if she had to ravage the entirety of the Eastern islands, she would find him.

"Our battle hasn't ended yet, Ranma."

~o~

The thought of what Esdeath was doing right now sent a shiver through Najenda's spine. That was probably something that was best not to think about. At the moment, Esdeath was someone else's problem.

Najenda leaned back on the bench.

As for the others…

Many had been prosecuted and brought to justice. In the first couple of months, the Imperial Capital literally ran red with blood. That was how thorough the cleansing of the corruption was. By the end of it, the capital was in shambles, but even then, it was slowly rising again.

Grand General Budo, for ignoring the corruption in front of his eyes for all these years, was stripped of his rank and forced into permanent house arrest. There was no reason to for him to work anymore anyways, with the dismantling of the monarchy his family served for so many generations, so he spent his time nowadays with his children and his grandchildren. His immense wealth as well as the patronage of many politicians who were under his support back then was enough that it would allow his family to live without a care for at least a few more generations.

Former Prime Minister Chouri returned to the political field and took a seat on the council. Along with his daughter, Spear, they regularly talked with the citizens in the city and visited even the most isolated villages in the Empire to smooth over relations. They were now well-recognized and had become iconic, despite their relatively humble intentions. Spear had even received marriage offers from both minor and major noble families, though she had steadfastly refused them, citing her duty to her father. Chouri, on the other hand, accepted to go to a formal meeting for nearly all of them, much to his daughter chagrin, though they never amounted to much.

Najenda wondered why.

~o~

"Spear, are you still thinking of him?"

Spear turned her head to look at her father, but she didn't stop fingering the scar on the side of her face. Inside the carriage, the two were sitting across from each other, but where there was usually a conversation going on, there was now only silence. Their relationship with each other was so close that she didn't even need to respond. So she didn't.

"He's gone now, and he couldn't return even if he wanted to," Chouri said. "The Empire had been changed by one boy, but he had done the unthinkable. Even if he returned, would you go to him?"

"…I don't know."

"Spear, my daughter, it's time to move on."

Spear was silent.

Chouri sighed.

"…if he asked me, I might have left with him."

"Then I'm thankful he didn't ask." Chouri weathered his daughter's glare. "I have no wish to see my daughter living a life on the run. That could've been the last time I'd ever see you."

Spear's glare softened, though it still held. She turned her face away and stared out the window. Her reflection faintly stared back at her.

"There are many young, admirable men who would like your hand. Please, give them a chance."

"I'm not interested."

Chouri gave a resigned frown. "I suppose only time will make amends."

Spear didn't respond as she held a hand over her breast, feeling the slow beat of her wounded heart.

_It hurts. It hurts so much._

~o~

Najenda rose from her seat, patting any dust—real and imagined—off her clothes and resumed her walk. So many things had happened in the past few months that her mind was still trying to process it all. Even with her former team, things had changed since the revolution.

Ever since Tatsumi saved Mine on the rooftop that fateful night when they fought Ranma, the girl had fallen in love with the boy. It had taken months, but they had finally started dating. From the last she heard, they were currently on their way to visit Tatsumi's home village.

~o~

From the driver seat of the hooded wagon, Tatsumi kept a tight hold of the reins. The horses were calmly trotting on the snowy path, but Bulat had always told him to be vigilant about it. There was no telling when something—or someone—might come out and spook them. Still, he couldn't hold back the yawn that left his mouth.

"Take a rest. I can take over."

Tatsumi glanced back to see that Mine had pulled the front curtains aside. She crawled out of wagon and into the seat next to Tatsumi. He frowned a little at that.

"Mine, you shouldn't be out here. It's still pretty cold."

"I'm wearing two coats. I'll be fine, so stop being an idiot and take a break. You've been at this for nine hours."

Tatsumi shook his head. "I'll get some rest when we get there. We should be seeing the village up ahead any minute now."

"Then I'll keep you company. I don't want you falling asleep and getting us stranded." Mine was looking straight ahead, trying to subtly hide her blush as her small hand fell on top of Tatsumi's.

Tatsumi's cheeks reddened. "Mine, I'm driving."

"You can do that with one hand."

"Uh yeah, I guess I can." Tatsumi almost released the rein to scratch his cheek, but quickly held off that urge. He took his left hand off of the rein and intertwined his fingers with hers.

They were silent as the horses continued to pull the hooded wagon at a steady pace, but there were little smiles on their faces. The rhythm of clip clops of the horses' hooves made a steady beat in the companionable silence that fell between the two.

"Mine, do you think they would've been happy with this?"

Mine, for her part, had to force herself not to glance back at the wagon at his mention. "Happy with what?"

"Coming home like this," Tatsumi said.

"Idiot, why are you asking me that? I never knew them." Even though the content was harsh, her tone was soft and gentle. "But I think they'd have been happy."

"If only we didn't get separated, then they wouldn't have been—ow ow ow!"

Mine had stabbed her fingernails into the hand she was holding. "Idiot. If you say something like that, then I'm worst. I could've saved so many people, but I couldn't."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Then this isn't your fault either, Tatsumi."

"But—"

"Don't say another word. If you can say that about my problems, then I can say that about yours. Don't become a stupid hypocrite, Tatsumi, or I'll blow your head off with Pumpkin."

"Ah." Tatsumi wanted to argue more, but he realized what she was trying to do. He smiled. "Thanks." Tatsumi took his eyes for the road for a second to lean in and kiss her cheek. He already returned to his original position, looking nonchalant, by the time Mine got out of her shock to turn her reddened face towards him.

"W-w-wha?"

"You know, you're cute when you're like that."

"D-don't say stupid things like that!"

"But you are."

"…idiot." Mine lowered her face, but it was colored like a tomato at this point. Despite herself, she had a wide smile on her lips.

"Ah, there it is." Tatsumi pointed up ahead, where the village could be seen far in the distance. While Mine leaned forward to try to get a better look, Tatsumi glanced back at the hooded wagon. The flap of the curtain was hanging off to the side, revealing two black coffins inside. He smiled softly and sadly.

"We're home, Sayo, Ieyasu."

~o~

There were many that had been lost during to Honest's reign of power. Every one of them needed some time to heal their wounds, now that the revolution was over.

Even though Bulat loved the peace, at the same time, his blood was too passionate to remain here. He had gone to the east to find his former commander, Liver. His guilt about not being able to save Liver drove him to do so, even knowing about the older man's new allegiance. In a sense, he was searching for answers to questions that could not be left alone. Whether or not he would find what he was searching for there, in the midst of the war that Esdeath was waging, only time would tell.

In regards to Leone, she had started living in the slums again. Most of the money she had gained from her employment had gone to helping out the residents. Things were still in bad condition there, despite the revolution, but her work was slowly paying off as things were getting better. Though, she was still getting drunk every so often, usually under someone else's moneybag.

As for Akame, she was reunited with her sister. Najenda was glad that the war had stopped when it had; the sisters had almost been forced to fight each other, especially since Kurome had joined the Jaegers. Still, the damage to Kurome's psyche and body from the drug abuse and the Empire's indoctrination was extensive, so Akame had taken her sister into the seclusion of the mountains to recover.

~o~

Akame stood before a small table inside a wooden cabin. Directly opposite of her was her younger sister, Kurome. They stared at each other with blank eyes, before they both looked down. On the table were two bowls, one stocked with meat and the other filled with individually wrapped candies. Kurome reached for the candy bowl.

Akame slapped her hand away and shook her head at the younger girl.

Kurome reached for it again, but her older sister slapped her hand away again. She frowned deeply, the lines indenting on her cheeks.

"Why can't I?"

"Not healthy," Akame said.

Kurome's frown deepened. She couldn't take the drugs, and it was making her agitated all the time. She kept feeling the urge to go out and get more, but she refrained from doing it because it would make her sister angry. Still, if she was going to take away her candy as well, then she might as well just get some more of the drugs. In fact, why didn't she just do that now—

"It's hard?" Akame's thumb brushed the spot under Kurome's eyes. There were dark bags there.

Kurome didn't reply. She didn't trust herself to. Arms wrapped around her and pulled her in.

"I'm sorry. I should've come for you." Akame hugged her. She buried her face into her shoulder. How long had she wanted this, even when she thought she would have to kill her? Now that it was reality instead of a dream or fantasy, she could hardly believe it.

"Are you crying, big sister?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'll stop eating so much candy, so don't cry."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

"Big sister…"

Outside the window, beyond the ridges of the mountains that surrounded the little cabin, the sun dipped below the horizon.

~o~

That had been months ago, right after the revolution. She had gotten a letter from them last week, asking her to send a supply of meat and sweets to the mountain. It seemed they had hunted all the nearby creatures to extinction and eaten their entire supply of sweets. The former was something she could easily imagine, but the latter…

They had taken a two year supply of sweets with them when they had first gone into isolation.

Najenda wouldn't have been surprised if Kurome pissed sugar at this point.

Speaking of the Jaegers, most of them were pardoned with a couple of exceptions. Bols, in particular, was working off his punishment with community service and free labor. For Dr. Stylish, his crimes against humanity in general were many, but his research was invaluable. He was pardoned on the condition that he would hand over all his research data to the new government and any new research project would have to be approved by the council first. One of his first duties was to use his Teigu, Perfector, to restore the damages to flesh wrought by the civil war.

Sheele had been one of the first to undergo the surgery. At the end of it, her body was restored to the condition it was before the torture, though it seemed to be a little better even. She was currently working at the Lubboc's bookstore, since it was thought that it would be difficult to damage books even with her clumsiness. Not impossible, to Lubboc's surprise, when she had caused all the bookshelves to fall in a domino effect.

~o~

"Sheele." Lubbock sighed as he stared at Sheele who was behind the cashier counter. She was reading a book, holding it in both of her hands.

"Yes, master?"

"Your book is upside down."

"Is it?" Sheele tilted her head, staring at the pages with both of her eyes. Normally, she would need to push up her glasses at this point, but she wasn't wearing them. She didn't need them anymore.

Lubbock plucked the book out of her hands, righted it, and put it back into her hands.

"Ah, so it was."

"I know you're still getting used to all the new parts that Dr. Stylish made for you, but you've to pay more attention. Last time, you gave too much change to the customer."

"I'm sorry…"

Lubbock sighed as he scratched his head through his hair. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, but you need to pay attention, especially to your new body parts. I don't trust that guy to not put something weird in them."

Sheele smiled and motioned for him to come closer. He looked curiously at her as he stood in front of the table. She leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Thanks for caring."

Lubbock looked stunned for a moment before he grinned in a silly manner and rubbed the back of his head. Even with how many times he got it from her, he still felt embarrassed and more than a little happy. Suddenly, a thought entered his mind, and his grin became mischievous.

"Do you want to close up shop early today?"

Sheele nodded happily.

~o~

As for her, life had been different living out in the capital once more. Najenda had been offered the position of captain in the Imperial Guards, but she had refused. Work had already taken most of her best years so she didn't want to use up the ones she had left on that.

She didn't quite have the beauty that she used to have, but she was starting to think more and more about marriage. Love was something that she had put off by telling herself that she would think about that after the revolution. Now that it was over, she didn't quite know what to do.

Lubbock had been her back-up plan. A bad back-up plan, but a back-up plan nonetheless. Now, that option was gone, but she didn't begrudge the girl for it. Sheele deserved to be happy.

She just wondered how life would have been like if she had accepted that prince's confession all those years ago before she joined the Revolutionary Army. Probably boring, now that she thought of it.

Well, there was still time.

As for Ranma and Genma…

After their abduction of the Emperor, they became the most wanted criminals in the Empire, but their trail ran cold in the forest. Search parties were sent far and wide, consisting of the most skilled in the Empire, but even then, there was nothing to be found. Information about the two was near nonexistent despite all the information gatherer and spy they sent to the Eastern islands. It was like they were ghosts.

The only piece they managed to acquire was the information they extracted from the Kouken Temple. The reason that they had been inducted into Honest's service was because of a prophecy that had originated from the Lord of the Path of Peace. When questioned about this, he had only smiled and said that all was as it should be. After that, he refused to say anything more about the topic.

It was officially one of the blackest crimes in recent history, but there were many that applauded their actions in secret, even with the fact that it ended the Imperial bloodline.

Najenda didn't know how she felt about it.

She just wondered if they, along with the Emperor, were happy now, wherever they were.

~o~

Ranma sometimes wondered if things could have been different. There were so many events, one after the other, that led to their current circumstance.

After their escape from the Empire, it wasn't long before Pops found out about the night games they played. It had been the first time that she had ever seen him truly and utterly angry. It took a lot of effort just to keep him from strangling Makoto. In the aftermath, plenty of explanations were given about what they were really doing. After that, Ranma had made sure to stay away from Makoto.

Still, the journey was a long one. Eventually, inhibition slowly eroded, giving way to secret and guilty pleasure. Even though Ranma had been misled into it, that simple act had opened Pandora's box. It was a slow process. It wasn't like it was overnight. Day by day, week by week, little by little, it started to not feel so wrong. That small thought that it wouldn't be so bad grew bit by bit. Temptation and the memory of what it felt like had plagued them. What was learned could not be unlearned and eventually, the temptation was far too much for them. So great was the desire after abstinence that they indulged in it and ran rampant with it. Worse, it didn't feel wrong to do so.

Eventually, it became what it was. From there, it was a whirlwind of events. It eventually settled down, but it was a time that tested her in more than ones.

After all that, Ranma had to admit one thing.

_She_ was happy now.

Looking down at the plain gold wedding band on the ring finger of her left hand, she remembered when Makoto had proposed to her.

It was a couple of months after the chaos had settled down in Nerima. The antiquities that Makoto had on him were more than enough to pay off the debt, especially when radiocarbon dating proved their age. With Nabiki's connections and the considerable amount of money they had left over, it was easy enough for the girl to set up Makoto with an identity as someone who came from Belarus. It was a small country, so it wasn't hard to find someone in the government who would do it for them for a fee. Even then, most in Japan simply consider him to be Russian, and with his appearance, it was easy to pass him off as such.

They had been having secret liaisons with each other, but with how things were in Nerima, that wasn't to last. In the midst of it all, he had proposed to her, having gotten the idea off of Nabiki. In spite of everyone's expectation, Nabiki included, Ranma had accepted it. She didn't even know why she accepted it, but she did. The fallout from that led to them moving into her mother's home.

"Ranma?" Nodoka walked into the living room with a sleeping baby boy cradled in the crook of her arms.

"Yes, mom?"

"Do you know where your father is?"

"Pops went on another trip to Europe."

Even though Genma had sought out the capital to retrieve his hidden treasure, he could never find the way back there no matter how long he searched in the forest in Belarus. Eventually, he gave up after he searched almost every square foot of the forest. Even though he came back to Japan in defeat, he would sometimes get the notion in his head that he would be able to find it. Out of the nine trips he had taken, all of them had ended in failure. In spite of that, he still kept trying.

Nodoka sighed. "That man…"

"Why are you still up? It's almost midnight."

"I should be asking you that, young lady."

"I'm not that young. I'm almost twenty-five now." Ranma scrunched up her face. "And I don't like being called a lady in any case."

"Well, that's the life you chose, Ranma," Nodoka said. "Now, you didn't answer my question."

"Did you ask one?"

"Ranma," Nodoka said sternly.

"I'm…I'm just thinking 'bout a few things."

"About," Nodoka corrected.

"About," Ranma repeated.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"It's not anything important. Just about how crazy things were to end up like this. I never thought I'd marry Makoto and have a child. It's just so strange."

"And I never thought that my manly son would choose to be a woman." Nodoka chuckled softly.

"It ain't like that. Makoto accepted both my male and female forms. You know that," Ranma said. A smile appeared on her lips. It didn't matter if it was hot water or cold water, the one who she chose to spend the rest of her life with was comfortable with both.

"I know. I'm simply teasing you, Ranma." Nodoka looked up at the clock. "Makoto is late."

"He probably got stuck with some last minute work." With the money they had left, Makoto had started up his own company after he graduated from high school. At first, they wanted him to go on to university like Ranma had done, but he had been adamant about earning his way and supporting them. It had started as a small company, but with Nabiki's help, it grew to the international level. Sadly, that meant less time at home, but Ranma made sure to visit him whenever she could, fitting it in between the martial arts classes that she taught in the dojo they built in the backyard.

"Is he the reason you're staying up?"

"No," Ranma said exasperatedly. "I already told you why."

"It doesn't mean you can't have another reason."

Ranma shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe."

The sound of a door unlocking and someone stepping into the house interrupted their conversation.

"You should go greet him. A wife should properly welcome her husband home after a hard day at work."

"What if I'm the husband?"

"Then you wouldn't be wearing that nightgown." Nodoka smiled. "Go to him. I'll put Kanma to bed."

"Thanks, mom."

Ranma rose from the couch and walked out of the living room. Moving through the hallway, she reached the main entrance. Standing next to the shoe rack, having taken off his dress shoes, was Makoto in a slightly wrinkled dark blue suit and tie. He had grown to be even taller than Ranma, and his lean muscular physique was an effect that came from being an Anything Goes practitioner. He had a handsome, slightly effeminate face that wouldn't be out of place on a fashion magazine. He was in the midst of pulling his tie loose when he noticed his wife standing there.

"Welcome home." Ranma smiled happily at him.

The stress and hardship of the workday slowly fled from his heart as he gazed upon that smile. Slowly but surely, Makoto returned that bright and wonderful smile.

"I'm home."

~o~

Author's note:

I was trying a new style by placing scenes within the narrative scene, but I don't think that went over well with the semi-constant switch of tone. Still, I don't think the scenes couldn't be enjoyed without the context. Or at least a longer individual scene to explain more, but that would have taken a lot of time to do. Well, live and learn. I believe I'm getting better at writing by figuring out which styles work, even if the results are less than spectacular.

In any case, I hope that you enjoyed the story. I can't believe I was able to finish it in a month and a half. A full, complete story that is longer than 60k!

Someday, I'll reach the vaunted 100k. Someday.

Okay, now onto how to how I wrote this story.

Well, I didn't actually have a plan for this story. I didn't even have a plan to the end of the current chapter I was writing. It was pretty much go with the flow and do it if it was interesting. That led to some unique things.

As for not making the story longer…I let everyone down! I was truly aiming for that high ceiling of more than 100k, but when I found an ending that neatly wraps up everything, I had to take it. The opportunity to wrap stories up becomes harder as a story becomes more complex. There are more threads that need to be tied up, otherwise it will lead to the universally despised bad ending or the ending that leaves a lot of questions unanswered.

I suppose I have to thank the opinions I received that made me decide to rewrite the storyline. It was originally going to go into Ranma and Genma joining Jaegers. Where it would go from there, I don't really know, but I assume a lot of fighting, bonding with the Jaegers, moral dilemma, and slowly going insane.

Oh, and you know, eventually finding out the truth and having to decide the ultimate dilemma on which side to choose. Also stuff like Genma getting a scratch on his hand from Akame's sword and cutting his own arm off. It's not so bad! Dr. Stylish is there to replace his arm with…something.

And adding more Ranma cast. I got to say that Mousse with Zank's third eye Teigu would be so incredibly deadly that it's not even funny. Wild Hunt would even get Kuno (and maybe Kodachi). Honestly, it would be pretty hard to figure out what Teigu fits with each of them.

If it went on this route, it was more than likely that I would have paired Ranma up with Spear. That girl deserves happiness, don't you agree? Well, Chelsea would have been good too. Maybe even Suzuka.

Makoto going yandere was also something I thought about. That would have been pretty awesome.

Generally, I judge if it was a good chapter or not by how fun it was to write it. Like when I wrote the ending to chapter 4 between Makoto and Ranma (and Honest), I was laughing my head off. Well, that was due in part to my thoughts about the reactions I knew I was going to get. The fact that it actually turned into something bigger surprised even me because I certainly wasn't planning on it. It was like a joke that somehow became bigger than it was supposed to be, but then again, I always liked weird pairings.

I don't care about gender lines. My own preference is that I'm not a fan of yaoi or yuri, though I make an exception for traps just because they're so cute. That said, I'm completely open to gender bender romance. All in all, I think Ranma and Makoto make a cute couple.

For the beginning few chapters, I had an editor that helped me and kept me confident, but for the last few, I was sadly without one since he got too busy. I always do self-editing before I foist it off to my beta, but I had none to shoot off ideas and find my mistakes. Especially the fight between Esdeath and Ranma had me feeling the lowest amount of confidence that I had this entire story. It feels like something is wrong, but I can't find it. Like an itch that I couldn't scratch.

Also, I received a question that asked: "Why Belarus?"

The answer to that? No reason! My editor mentioned the country so I took it. It was originally just going to be a nameless country in Eastern Europe. That's pretty much it, hahaha.

I would also like to thank Hiryo and Vahn for the moral support they have given me. I enjoyed our talks, and I hope to talk to you more.

Anyways, it's time for me to move onto a new story. Cheer for me! Once I figure out which series to do. I don't know what I want to do. Well, I'll figure it out sometime.

Now for Omake time!

~o~ Omake One ~o~

That speed. Even his eyes, enhanced by the waters of the Kraken Lake and decades of training, were strained in keeping up with that speed. Even his Hundred Blazing Fist technique could not compare—no, it was even sacrilegious to think of them in the same thought. The young man's technique had sent five hundred punches to several points on Suzuka's body. It was not random, for there was at least fifty punches to each of the locations, done specifically to spread out the damage so that it wasn't lethal and to effectively disable a person.

Sten crossed his arms as the technique ended. If it were anyone else besides a Rakshasa Demon, it would have put them down for the count. However, their bodies had a far higher endurance than a normal human.

Suzuka fell to her knees.

Eh? Sten stared, his mouth gaping slightly.

"Ah…a-ahh…" Suzuka's face was flushed.

"You…you climaxed, didn't you…?" Sten's eye twitched. The front of her hakama was soaked, and from the smell, it certainly wasn't sweat.

Ranma, for his part, tilted his head slightly in confusion,

"This…this exquisite pain. I've finally found you, darling!"

Ranma took a step backwards. "Hey! I got plenty of that to deal with. I don't need another one."

"Instant rejection! It hurts," Suzuka said, "but it feels so good."

~o~ Omake two ~o~

"Ranma is guilty of treason."

Emperor Makoto looked between the Prime Minister and Ranma, his expression becoming a little strained as he thought about the situation. "You mean…"

"Yes, he'll be sentenced to death," Honest said.

"Hey! I didn't do nothing." Ranma glared angrily at Honest. "Just because you keep saying it doesn't make it true."

"Quiet." One of the guards holding Ranma kicked him in the side, but it didn't little to him.

"I see." Makoto walked down the steps to the martial artist. "I understand what I've to do."

Honest smirked at those words while Ranma's glare at the Prime Minister intensified. Makoto came to a stop before Ranma. The little Emperor took a deep breath before finally speaking.

"I'll pardon your crimes."

"I don't know what that fat guy is telling you, but I—wait what?"

"What?!" Honest's jaw dropped open.

"I said you're pardoned." Makoto smiled brightly at Ranma. "By my authority of Emperor of the Empire, I hereby pardon one Ranma Saotome of all crimes henceforth. Those that dare to call into question my decision will be subject to my wrath."

"But Emperor Makoto, you can't possibly be—"

"This applies to you too, Prime Minister." The eyes that Makoto glanced back at Honest with were cold. "I'll not have you questioning my decision."

Honest's face darkened, but he held his tongue. "As you wish."

~o~ Omake Three ~o~

Makoto looked down at the list and then up at Ranma. He looked at the list again and then back up at Ranma. There was a worried expression on his face.

"I'm having second thoughts about this arrangement, Prime Minister."

"What arrangement, Your Highness?"

"Ranma working under Esdeath. I think it might be better if he simply stays at my side."

"We've already talked about this, Your Highness," Honest said. "It's far too late to change things now."

Makoto frowned. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Ranma. The pigtailed boy in question stared at him in confusion, but he ignored that and hugged him from behind.

"Ranma is mine." Makoto was staring at Esdeath as he said this.

Esdeath simply stared blankly at him.

Honest coughed into his fist. "I believe that His Majesty is worried that you might steal his fiancée away from him."

"Why would I do that?" Esdeath honestly asked.

"It would seem that Emperor Makoto believes that Ranma fits all of your criteria."

Esdeath turned and stared at the frowning Ranma. It was a few seconds before she finally spoke.

"Can I have him for a trial period?"


End file.
